THE MERCHANT OF Introductory matter[unresolved image link]
THE MERCHANT OF VENICE. A COMEDY.
Printed in the Year
1709.
-- 524 --
Dramatis Personæ.
Duke of Venice.
Morochius [Prince of Morocco], a Moorish Prince. Suiter to Portia.
Prince of Arragon. Suiter to Portia.
Anthonio [Antonio], the Merchant of Venice.
Bassanio, his Friend, in love with Portia.
Salanio [Solanio], Friend to Anthonio and Bassanio
Solarino [Salarino], Friend to Anthonio and Bassanio
Gratiano, Friend to Anthonio and Bassanio
Lorenzo, in love with Jessica.
Shylock, a Jew.
Tubal, a Jew, his Friend.
Launcelot, a Clown, Servant to the Jew.
Gobbo, an old Man, Father to Launcelot.
Portia, an Heiress of great Quality and Fortune.
Nerissa, Confident to Portia.
Jessica, Daughter to Shylock.
Senators of Venice, Officers, Servants to Portia, and other Attendants.
[Servant], [Balthasar], [Messenger],SCENE partly at Venice, and partly at Belmont, the Seat of Portia upon the Continent.
-- 525 --
The Merchant of Venice.
ACT I.SCENE I.Enter Anthonio, Solarino and Salanio.
ANTHONIO. In sooth I know not why I am so sad,
It wearies me; you say it wearies you;
But how I caught it, found it, or came by it;
What Stuff 'tis made of, whereof it is born,
I am to learn; and such a want-wit Sadness makes of me,
That I have much ado to know my self.
Sal.
Your Mind is tossing on the Ocean,
There where your Argosies with portly Sail,
Like Signiors and rich Burgers on the Flood,
Or as it were the Pageants of the Sea,
Do over-peer the petty Traffickers
That Curtsie to them, do them Reverence,
As they fly by them with their woven Wings.
Sola.
Believe me, Sir, had I such Venture forth,
The better Part of my Affections would
Be with my Hopes abroad. I should be still
Plucking the Grass, to know where sits the Wind,
Peering in Maps for Ports, and Peers, and Roads;
And every Object that might make me fear
Misfortune to my Ventures, out of doubt,
Would make me sad.
-- 526 --
Sal.
My Wind cooling my Broth,
Would blow me to an Ague, when I thought
What harm a Wind too great might do at Sea.
I should not see the sandy Hour-glass run,
But I should think of Shallows and of Flats,
And see my wealthy Andrew dock'd in Sand,
Vailing her high Top lower than her Ribs,
To kiss her Burial: Should I go to Church
And see the holy Edifice of Stone,
And not bethink me straight of dangerous Rocks?
Which touching but my gentle Vessel's Side,
Would scatter all her Spices on the Stream,
Enrobe the roaring Waters with my Silks;
And in a word, but even now worth this,
And now worth nothing. Shall I have the Thought
To think on this, and shall I lack the Thought,
That such a Thing bechanc'd would make me sad?
But tell not me, I know Anthonio
Is sad to think upon his Merchandize.
Anth.
Believe me, no, I thank my Fortune for it,
My Ventures are not in one Bottom trusted,
Nor to one Place; nor is my whole Estate
Upon the Fortune of this present Year:
Therefore my Merchandize makes me not sad.
Sola.
Why then you are in Love.
Anth.
Fie, fie.
Sola.
Not in Love neither! then let us say you are sad,
Because you are not merry; and 'twere as easie
For you to laugh and leap, and say you are merry,
Because you are not sad. Now by two-headed Janus,
Nature hath fram'd strange Fellows in her Time:
Some that will evermore peep through their Eyes,
And laugh like Parrots at a Bag-piper;
And other of such vinegar Aspect,
That they'll not shew their Teeth in way of Smile,
Though Nestor swear the Jest be laughable. Enter Bassanio, Lorenzo and Gratiano.
Sal.
Here comes Bassanio,
Your most noble Kinsman;
Gratiano and Lorenzo: Fare ye well;
We leave you now with better Company.
-- 527 --
Sola.
I would have staid 'till I had made you merry,
If worthier Friends had not prevented me.
Anth.
Your Worth is very dear in my Regard:
I take it your own Business calls on you,
And you embrace th' Occasion to depart.
Sal.
Good Morrow, my good Lords.
Bass.
Good Signiors both, when shall we laugh? say when?
You grow exceeding strange; must it be so?
Sal.
We'll make our Leisures to attend on yours.
Sola.
My Lord Bassanio, since you have found Anthonio,
We two will leave you; but at Dinner Time,
I pray you have in mind where we must meet.
Bass.
I will not fail you. [Exeunt Solar. and Sala.
Gra.
You look not well, Signior Anthonio;
You have too much Respect upon the World:
They lose it that do buy it with much Care.
Believe me, you are marvellously chang'd.
Anth.
I hold the World but as the World, Gratiano;
A Stage where every Man must play his Part;
And mine a sad one.
Gra.
Let me play the Fool
With Mirth and Laughter; let old Wrinkles come,
And let my Liver rather heat with Wine,
Than my Heart cool with mortifying Groans:
Why should a Man, whose Blood is warm within,
Sit like his Grandsire cut in Alablaster?
Sleep when he wakes, and creep into the Jaundies
By being peevish? I tell thee what, Anthonio,
I love thee, and it is my Love that speaks:
There are a sort of Men, whose Visages
Do cream and mantle like a standing Pond,
And do a wilful Stilness entertain,
With purpose to be drest in an Opinion
Of Wisdom, Gravity, profound Conceit,
As who should say, I am, Sir, an Oracle;
And when I ope my Lips, let no Dog bark.
O my Anthonio, I do know of these,
That therefore only are reputed Wise,
For saying nothing; who I am very sure,
If they should speak, would almost damn those Ears,
-- 528 --
Which hearing them, would call their Brothers Fools.
I'll tell thee more of this another time:
But fish not with this melancholly Bait,
For this fool Gudgeon, this Opinion.
Come good Lorenzo, fare ye well a while,
I'll end my Exhortation after Dinner.
Lor.
Well, we will leave you then 'till Dinner-time.
I must be one of these same dumb wise Men;
For Gratiano never lets me speak.
Gra.
Well, keep me Company but two Years more,
Thou shalt not know the Sound of thine own Tongue.
Anth.
Fare you well; I'll grow a Talker for this Gear.
Gra.
Thanks i'faith; for Silence is only commendable
In a Neats Tongue dry'd, and a Maid not vendible. [Exit.
Anth.
Is that any thing now?
Bass.
Gratiano speaks an infinite deal of nothing, more than
any Man in all Venice: his Reasons are two Grains of Wheat
hid in two Bushels of Chaff; you may seek all Day e'er you
find them, and when you have them, they are not worth
the Search.
Anth.
Well; tell me now what Lady is the same
To whom you swore a secret Pilgrimage,
That you to Day promis'd to tell me of?
Bass.
'Tis not unknown to you, Anthonio,
How much I have disabled mine Estate,
By something shewing a more swelling Port
Than my faint Means would grant continuance to;
Nor do I now make Moan to be abridg'd
From such a noble Rate; but my chief Care
Is to come fairly off from the great Debts
Wherein my time, something too prodigal,
Hath left me gag'd: To you, Anthonio,
I owe the most in Mony, and in Love,
And from your Love I have a Warranty
To unburthen all my Plots and Purposes,
How to get clear of all the Debts I owe.
Anth.
I pray you, good Bassanio, let me know it,
And if it stands as you your self still do,
Within the Eye of Honour, be assur'd
My Purse, my Person, my extreamest Means
Lye all unlock'd to your Occasions.
-- 529 --
Bass.
In my School-Days, when I had lost one Shaft,
I shot his Fellow of the self-same Flight
The self-same way, with more advised Watch,
To find the other forth; and by adventuring both,
I oft found both. I urge this Child-hood Proof,
Because what follows is pure Innocence.
I owe you much, and like a wilful Youth,
That which I owe is lost; but if you please
To shoot another Arrow that self way
Which you did shoot the first, I do not doubt,
As I will watch the Aim, or to find both,
Or bring your latter Hazard back again,
And thankfully rest Debtor for the first.
Anth.
You know me well, and herein spend but Time
To wind about my Love with Circumstance;
And out of doubt you do to me more Wrong,
In making Question of my uttermost,
Than if you had made waste of all I have:
Then do but say to me, what should I do,
That in your Knowledge may by me be done,
And I am prest unto it: Therefore speak.
Bass.
In Belmont is a Lady richly left,
And she is fair, and fairer than that Word,
Of wondrous Virtues; Sometimes from her Eyes
I did receive fair speechless Messages;
Her Name is Portia, nothing undervalu'd
To Cato's Daughter, Brutus Portia:
Nor is the wide World ignorant of her Worth;
For the four Winds blow in from every Coast
Renowned Sutors; and her sunny Locks
Hang on her Temples like a golden Fleece,
Which makes her Seat of Belmont Cholchos Strond,
And many Jasons come in quest of her.
O my Anthonio, had I but the Means
To hold a rival Place with one of them,
I have a Mind presages me such Thrift,
That I should questionless be fortunate.
Anth.
Thou know'st that all my Fortunes are at Sea,
Neither have I Mony, nor Commodity
To raise a present Sum; therefore go forth,
Try what my Credit can in Venice do;
-- 530 --
That shall be rack'd even to the uttermost,
To furnish thee to Belmont to fair Portia:
Go presently enquire, and so will I,
Where Mony is, and I no question make
To have it of my Trust, or for my Sake.
[Exeunt.SCENE II.Belmont.Three Caskets are set out, one of Gold, another of Silver, and another of Lead.Enter Portia and Nerissa.
Por.
By my Troth, Nerissa, my little Body is weary of
this great World.
Ner.
You would be, sweet Madam, if your Miseries were
in the same Abundance as your good Fortunes are; and yet,
for ought I see, they are as sick that surfeit with too much,
as they that starve with nothing; therefore it is no small
Happiness to be seated in the Mean; Superfluity comes sooner
by white Hairs, but Competency lives longer.
Por.
Good Sentences, and well pronounc'd.
Ner.
They would be better, if well follow'd.
Por.
If to do were as easie as to know what were good to
do, Chappels had been Churches, and poor Mens Cottages
Princes Palaces: It is a good Divine that follows his own
Instructions; I can easier teach twenty what were good to
be done, than to be one of the twenty to follow mine own
teaching. The Brain may devise Laws for the Blood, but a
hot Temper leaps o'er a cold Decree; such a Hare is Madness
the Youth, to skip o'er the Meshes of good Counsel
the Cripple. But this Reason is not in Fashion to chuse me
a Husband: O me, the Word chuse! I may neither chuse
whom I would, nor refuse whom I dislike, so is the Will
of a living Daughter curb'd by the Will of a dead Father:
Is it not hard, Nerissa, that I cannot chuse one, nor refuse
none?
Ner.
Your Father was ever Virtuous, and holy Men at
their Death have good Inspirations; therefore the Lottery
that he hath devised in these three Chests of Gold, Silver,
and Lead, whereof, who chuses his Meaning, chuses you,
will no doubt never be chosen by any rightly, but one who
you shall rightly love. But what Warmth is there in your
Affection towards any of these Princely Suters that are already
come?
-- 531 --
Por.
I pray thee over-name them, and as thou nam'st
them, I will describe them, and according to my Description,
level at my Affection.
Ner.
First there is the Neapolitan Prince.
Por.
Ay, that's a Colt indeed, for he doth nothing but
talk of his Horse, and he makes it a great Appropriation
to his own good Parts that he can shoo him himself: I am
much afraid my Lady his Mother plaid false with a
Smith.
Ner.
Then is there the County Palentine.
Por.
He doth nothing but frown, as who should say, and
you will not have me, chuse: He hears merry Tales and
smiles not, I fear he will prove the weeping Philosopher
when he grows old, being so full of unmannerly Sadness in
his Youth. I had rather to be married to a Death's Head
with a Bone in his Mouth, than to either of these. God
defend me from these two.
Ner.
How say you by the French Lord, Monsieur LeBoun?
Por.
God made him, and therefore let him pass for a Man;
in truth I know it is Sin to be a Mocker; but he! why
he hath a Horse better than the Neapolitan's, a better bad Habit
of Frowning than the Count Palentine, he is every Man
in no Man, if a Tassel sing, he falls straight a Capring; he
will fence with his own Shadow; if I should marry him, I
should marry twenty Husbands; if he would despise me, I
would forgive him, for if he love me to Madness, I should
never requite him.
Ner.
What say you then to Fauconbridge, the young Baron
of England?
Por.
You know I say nothing to him, for he understands
not me, nor I him; he hath neither Latin, French, nor Italian,
and you will come into the Court and swear that I have
a poor Penny-worth in English; he is a proper Man's Picture,
but alas who can converse with a dumb Show? How odly
he is suited! I think he bought his Doublet in Italy, his
round Hose in France, his Bonnet in Germany, and his Behaviour
every where.
Ner.
What think you of the other Lord his Neighbour?
-- 532 --
Por.
That he hath a neighbourly Charity in him, for
he borrow'd a Box of the Ear of the English-man, and
swore he would pay him again when he was able. I think
the French-man became his Surety, and sealed under for another.
Ner
How like you the young German, the Duke of
Saxony's Nephew?
Por.
Very vildly in the Morning when he is sober, and
most vildly in the Afternoon when he is drunk; when he is
best, he is a little worse than a Man, and when he is worst,
he is little better than a Beast; and the worst Fall that ever
fell, I hope I shall make shift to go without him.
Ner.
If he should offer to chuse, and chuse the right
Casket, you should refuse to perform your Father's Will, if
you should refuse to accept him.
Por.
Therefore for fear of the worst, I pray thee set a
deep Glass of Rhenish Wine on the contrary Casket, for if
the Devil be within, and the Temptation without, I know
he will chuse it. I will do any thing, Nerissa, e'er I will be
marry'd to a Spunge.
Ner.
You need not fear Lady the having any of these
Lords, they have acquainted me with their Determination,
which is indeed to return to their Home, and to trouble
you with no more Suits, unless you may be won by some
other sort than your Father's Imposition, depending on the
Caskets.
Por.
If I live to be as old as Sibilla, I will die as chaste
as Diana, unless I be obtain'd by the manner of my Father's
Will: I am glad this Parcel of Wooers are so reasonable,
for there is not one among them but I doat on his
very Absence, and wish them a fair Departure.
Ner.
Do you not remember, Lady, in your Father's
time, a Venetian, a Scholar and a Soldier that came hither
in Company of the Marquiss of Mountferrat?
Por.
Yes, yes, it was Bassanio, as I think, so was he
call'd.
Ner.
True Madam, he of all the Men that ever my
foolish Eyes look'd upon, was the best deserving a fair
Lady.
Por.
I remember him well, and I remember him worthy
of thy Praise.
-- 533 --
Enter a Servant.
Ser.
The four Strangers seek you, Madam, to take their
Leave; and there is a Fore-runner come from a fifth,
The Prince of Morocco, who brings Word the Prince his
Master will be here to Night.
Por.
If I could bid the Fifth welcome with so good Heart
as I can bid the other four farewel, I should be glad of
his Approach; if he have the Condition of a Saint, and
the Complexion of a Devil, I had rather he should shrive
me than wive me. Come Nerissa, Sirrah go before; whiles
we shut the Gate upon one Wooer, another knocks at the
Door.
[Exeunt.SCENE III.Venice.Enter Bassanio and Shylock.
Shy.
Three thousand Ducats, well.
Bass.
Ay Sir, for three Months.
Shy.
For three Months, well.
Bass.
For the which, as I told you,
Anthonio shall be bound.
Shy. Anthonio shall become bound, well.
Bass.
May you stead me? Will you pleasure me?
Shall I know your Answer?
Shy.
Three thousand Ducats for three Months,
And Anthonio bound.
Bass.
Your Answer to that.
Shy.
Anthonio is a good Man.
Bass.
Have you heard any Imputation to the contrary?
Shy.
No, no, no, no; my Meaning in saying he is a
good Man, is to have you understand me, that he is sufficient;
yet his Means are in supposition: He hath an Argosie
bound to Tripolis, another to the Indies; I understand
moreover upon the Ryalto, he hath a third at Mexico, a
fourth for England, and other Ventures he hath squandred
Abroad. But Ships are but Boards, Sailers but Men;
there be Land Rats, and Water Rats, Water Thieves and
Land Thieves, I mean Pyrates; and then there is the Peril
of Waters, Winds, and Rocks; the Man is notwithstanding
sufficient; three thousand Ducats, I think I may take his
Bond.
-- 534 --
Bass.
Be assur'd you may.
Jew.
I will be assur'd I may; and that I may be assur'd,
I will bethink me; may I speak with Anthonio?
Bass.
If it please you to dine with us.
Jew.
Yes, to smell Pork, to eat of the Habitation which
your Prophet the Nazarite conjur'd the Devil into; I will
buy with you, sell with you, talk with you, walk with you,
and so following; but I will not eat with you, drink with
you, nor pray with you.
What News on the Ryalto; who comes here? Enter Anthonio.
Bass.
This is Signior Anthonio.
Jew. [Aside.]
How like a fawning Publican he looks!
I hate him, for he is a Christian:
But more, for that in low Simplicity
He lends out Mony Gratis, and brings down
The Rate of Usance here with us in Venice;
If I can catch him once upon the Hip,
I will feed fat the antient Grudge I bear him.
He hates our sacred Nation, and he rails
Even there where Merchants most do congregate,
On me, my Bargains, and my well-worn Thrift,
Which he calls Interest. Cursed be my Tribe
If I forgive him.
Bass. Shylock, do you hear?
Shy.
I am debating of my present Store,
And by the near Guess of my Memory,
I cannot instantly raise up the Gross
Of full three thousand Ducats: What of that?
Tuball, a wealthy Hebrew of my Tribe,
Will furnish me; but soft, how many Months
Do you desire? Rest you fair, good Signior,
[To Anth.
Your Worship was the last Man in our Mouths.
Anth. Shylock, albeit I neither lend nor borrow
By taking, nor by giving of Excess,
Yet to supply the ripe Wants of my Friend,
I'll break a Custom. Is he yet possest
How much he would?
Shy.
Ay, ay, three thousand Ducats.
Anth.
And for three Months.
-- 535 --
Shy.
I had forgot, three Months you told me so:
Well then, your Bond: But let me see, but hear you,
Methoughts you said, you neither lend nor borrow
Upon Advantage.
Anth.
I did never use it.
Shy.
When Jacob graz'd his Uncle Laban's Sheep,
This Jacob from our holy Abraham was,
As his wise Mother wrought in his behalf,
The third Possesser, ay, he was the third.
Anth.
And what of him, did he take Interest?
Shy.
No, not take Interest, not as you would say
Directly Interest; mark what Jacob did.
When Laban and himself were compromiz'd
That all the Ewelings which were streak'd and pied
Should fall as Jacob's Hire; and Ewes being rank,
In end of Autumn turned to the Rams;
And when the Work of Generation was
Between these woolly Breeders, in the Act
The skilful Shepherd pil'd me certain Wands,
And in the doing of the Deed of Kind,
He stuck them up before the fulsome Ewes,
Who then conceiving, did in Yeaning time
Fall party-colour'd Lambs, and those were Jacob's.
This was a way to thrive, and he was blest;
And Thrift is Blessing, if Men steal it not.
Anth.
This was a Venture, Sir, that Jacob serv'd for;
A thing not in his Power to bring to pass,
But sway'd and fashion'd by the Hand of Heav'n:
Was this inserted to make Interest good?
Or is your Gold and Silver Ewes and Rams?
Shy.
I cannot tell; I make it breed as fast;
But note me, Signior.
Anth.
Mark you this, Bassanio,
The Devil can cite Scripture for his purpose.
An evil Soul producing holy Witness,
Is like a Villain with a smiling Cheek,
A goodly Apple rotten at the Heart.
O what a godly Outside Falshood hath.
Shy.
Three thousand Ducats, 'tis a good round Sum.
Three Months from twelve, then let me see the Rate.
Anth.
Well, Shylock, shall we be beholding to you?
-- 536 --
Shy.
Signior Anthonio, many a Time and oft,
In the Ryalto you have rated me,
About my Monies and my Usances:
Still have I born it with a patient Shrug,
For Sufferance is the Badge of all our Tribe;
You call me Misbeliever, Cut-throat Dog,
And spit upon my Jewish Gaberdine.
And all for use of that which is mine own.
Well then, it now appears you need my Help:
Go to then, you come to me, and you say,
Shylock, we would have Monies; you say so,
You that did void your Rheume upon my Beard,
And foot me as you spurn a stranger Cur
Over your Threshold: Monies is your Suit.
What should I say to you? Should I not say,
Hath a Dog Mony? is it possible
A Cur should lend three thousand Ducats? or
Shall I bend low, and in a Bondman's Key
With bated Breath, and whispring Humbleness,
Say this: Fair Sir, you spet on me on Wednesday last;
You spurn'd me such a Day; another time
You call'd me Dog; and for these Curtesies
I'll lend you thus much Monies.
Anth.
I am as like to call thee so again,
To spit on thee again, to spurn thee too.
If thou wilt lend this Mony, lend it not
As to thy Friend, for when did Friendship take
A Breed of barren Metal of his Friend?
But lend it rather to thine Enemy,
Who if he break, thou may'st with better Face
Exact the Penalties.
Shy.
Why look you how you storm.
I would be Friends with you, and have your Love,
Forget the Shames that you have stain'd me with,
Supply your present Wants, and take no Doit
Of Usage for my Monies, and you'll not hear me:
This is kind I offer.
Bass.
This were Kindness.
Shy.
This Kindness will I show;
Go with me to a Notary, seal me there
Your single Bond, and in a merry Sport
-- 537 --
If you repay me not on such a Day,
In such a Place, such Sum or Sums as are
Express'd in the Condition, let the Forfeit
Be nominated for an equal Pound
Of your fair Flesh, to be cut off and taken
In what part of your Body it pleaseth me.
Anth.
Content, in Faith, I'll seal to such a Bond,
And say there is much Kindness in the Jew.
Bas.
You shall not seal to such a Bond for me,
I'll rather dwell in my Necessity.
Anth.
Why fear not Man, I will not forfeit it;
Within these two Months, that's a Month before
This Bond expires, I do expect return
Of thrice three times the value of this Bond.
Shy.
O Father Abraham, what these Christians are!
Whose own hard Dealing teaches them suspect
The Thoughts of others: Pray you tell me this,
If he should break his Day, what should I gain
By the exaction of the Forfeiture?
A Pound of Man's Flesh taken from a Man,
Is not so estimable, profitable neither,
As Flesh of Muttons, Beefs, or Goats. I say,
To buy his Favour, I extend this Friendship;
If he will take it, so; if not, adieu;
And for my Love I pray you wrong me not.
Anth.
Yes, Shylock, I will seal unto this Bond.
Shy.
Then meet me forthwith at the Notary's,
Give him direction for this merry Bond,
And I will go and purse the Ducats straight:
See to my House, left in the fearful Guard
Of an unthrifty Knave, and presently
I'll be with you. [Exit.
Anth.
Hie thee, gentle Jew. This Hebrew will turn
Christian, he grows kind.
Bass.
I like not fair Terms, and a Villain's Mind.
Anth.
Come on, in this there can be no dismay,
My Ships come home a Month before the Day. [Exeunt.
-- 538 --
ACT II.SCENE I.SCENE Belmont.Enter Morochius a Tawny-Moor all in White, and three or
four Followers accordingly, with Portia, Nerissa, and her
Train. Flo. Cornets.
Mor. Mislike me not for my Complection,
The shadowed Livery of the burnish'd Sun,
To whom I am a Neighbour, and near bred.
Bring me the fairest Creature Northward born,
Where Phœbus Fire scarce thaws the Isicles,
And let us make Incision for your Love,
To prove whose Blood is reddest, his or mine.
I tell thee, Lady, this Aspect of mine
Hath fear'd the Valiant, by my Love I swear,
The best regarded Virgins of our Clime
Have lov'd it too: I would not change this Hue,
Except to steal your Thoughts, my gentle Queen.
Por.
In terms of Choice I am not solely led
By nice Direction of a Maiden's Eyes:
Besides, the Lottery of my Destiny
Bars me the right of voluntary chusing:
But if my Father had not scanted me,
And hedg'd me by his Wit to yield my self
His Wife, who wins me by that means I told you,
Your self, Renowned Prince, then stood as fair
As any Comer I have look'd on yet
For my Affection.
Mor.
Even for that I thank you,
Therefore I pray you lead me to the Caskets
To try my Fortune: By this Scimitar,
That slew the Sophy, and a Persian Prince,
That won three Fields of Sultan Solyman,
I would o'er-stare the sternest Eyes that look,
Out-brave the Heart most daring on the Earth,
Pluck the young sucking Cubs from the She-Bear,
Yea, mock the Lion when he roars for Prey,
-- 539 --
To win the Lady. But alas, the while,
If Hercules and Lychas play at Dice,
Which is the better Man? the greater Throw
May turn by Fortune from the weaker Hand:
So is Alcides beaten by his Rage,
And so may I, blind Fortune leading me,
Miss that which one unworthier may attain,
And dye with grieving.
Por.
You must take your Chance,
And either not attempt to chuse at all,
Or swear before you chuse, if you chuse wrong,
Never to speak to Lady afterward
In way of Marriage; therefore be advis'd.
Mor.
Nor will not; come bring me unto my Chance.
Por.
First forward to the Temple, after Dinner
Your Hazard shall be made.
Mor.
Good Fortune then,
[Cornets.
To make me blest or cursed'st among Men. [Exeunt.SCENE II.Venice.Enter Launcelot alone.
Laun.
Certainly, my Conscience will serve me to run
from this Jew my Master: The Fiend is at my Elbow, and
attempts me, saying to me, Job, Launcelot Job, good Launcelot,
or good Job, or good Launcelot Job, use your Legs,
take the start, run away: My Conscience says no; take
heed, honest Launcelot, take heed, honest Job, or as aforesaid,
honest Launcelot Job, do not run, scorn running with
thy Heels: Well, the most couragious Fiend bids me pack,
Via says the Fiend, away says the Fiend, for the Heav'ns rouse
up a brave Mind, says the Fiend, and run. Well, my Conscience
hanging about the Neck of my Heart, says very
wisely to me, My honest Friend Launcelot, being an honest
Man's Son, or rather an honest Woman's Son—for indeed
my Father did something smack, something grow too;
he had a kind of taste—Well, my Conscience says, Launcelotbudge not; budge, says the Fiend; budge not, says
my Conscience; Conscience, say I, you counsel well;
Fiend, say I, you counsel well; to be rul'd by my Conscience
-- 540 --
I should stay with the Jew my Master, who, God
bless the Mark, is a kind of Devil; and to run away from
the Jew I should be ruled by the Fiend, who, saving your
Reverence, is the Devil himself. Certainly the Jew is the
very Devil Incarnation, and in my Conscience, my Conscience
is a kind of hard Conscience, to offer to counsel me to
stay with the Jew; the Fiend gives the more friendly counsel;
I will run, Fiend, my Heels are at your Commandment,
I will run.
Enter Old Gobbo with a Basket.
Gob.
Master Young-man, you, I pray you, which is the
way to Master Jew's!
Laun.
O Heav'ns, this is my true begotten Father, who
being more than sand-blind, high gravel-blind, knows me
not; I will try Confusions with him.
God.
Master young Gentleman, I pray you which is the
way to Master Jew's?
Laun.
Turn upon your Right-hand at the next turning,
but at the next turning of all on your Left; marry at the
very next turning turn of no hand, but turn down indirectly
to the Jew's House.
Gob.
By God's sonties, 'twill be a hard way to hit; can
you tell me whether one Launcelot that dwells with him,
dwell with him or no?
Laun.
Talk you of young Master Launcelot? Mark me
now, now will I raise the Waters; talk you of young Master
Launcelot?
Gob.
No Master, Sir, but a poor Man's Son, his Father,
tho' I say't, is an honest exceeding poor Man, and God be
thanked well to live.
Laun.
Well, let his Father be what a will, we talk of
young Master Launcelot.
Gob.
Your Worship's Friend and Launcelot.
Laun.
But I pray you Ergo, old Man, Ergo I beseech you,
talk you of young Master Launcelot?
Gob.
Of Launcelot, an't please your Mastership.
Laun.
Ergo Master Launcelot, talk not of Master LauncelotFather, for the young Gentleman according to Fates and
Destinies, and such odd Sayings, the Sisters three, and such
Branches of Learning, is indeed deceased, or as you would
say in plain terms, gone to Heaven.
-- 541 --
Gob.
Marry God forbid, the Boy was the very Staff of
my Age, my very Prop.
Laun.
Do I look like a Cudgel or a Hovel-post, a Staff or
a Prop? Do you know me, Father?
Gob.
Alack the day, I know you not, young Gentleman;
but I pray you tell me, is my Boy, God rest his Soul, alive
or dead?
Laun.
Do you not know me, Father?
Gob.
Alack Sir, I am sand-blind, I know you not.
Laun.
Nay, indeed, if you had your Eyes you might
fail of the knowing me: It is a wise Father that knows his
own Child. Well, old Man, I will tell you News of your
Son, give me your Blessing, Truth will come to light,
Murder cannot be hid long, a Man's Son may, but in the end
Truth will not.
Gob.
Pray you Sir stand up, I am sure you are not Launcelotmy Boy.
Laun.
Pray you let's have no more fooling about it, but
give me your Blessing; I am Launcelot, your Boy that was,
your Son that is, your Child that shall be.
Gob.
I cannot think you are my Son.
Laun.
I know not what I shall think of that: But I am
Launcelot the Jew's Man, and I am sure Margery your Wife
is my Mother.
Gob.
Her Name is Margery indeed, I'll be sworn if thou
be Launcelot, thou art mine own Flesh and Blood: Lord
worship'd might he be! what a Beard hast thou got; thou
hast got more hair on thy Chin, than Dobbin my Phil-horse
has on his Tail.
Laun.
It should seem then that Dobbin's Tail grows backward.
I am sure he had more Hair on his Tail than I have
on my Face when I last saw him.
Gob.
Lord how art thou chang'd! how dost thou and
thy Master agree? I have brought him a Present; how gree
you now?
Laun.
Well, well, but for mine own part, as I have set
up my rest to run away, so I will not rest 'till I have run
some ground: My Master's a very Jew: Give him a Present!
give him a Halter: I am famish'd in his Service. You may
tell every Finger I have with my Ribs. Father, I am glad
you are come, give me your Present to one Master Bassanio,
-- 542 --
who indeed gives rare new Liveries; If I serve him not, I
will run as far as God has any Ground. O rare Fortune!
here comes the Man; to him Father, for I am a Jew if I
serve the Jew any longer.
Enter Bassanio with a Follower or two.
Bass.
You may do so, but let it be so hasted, that Supper
be ready at the farthest by five of the Clock: See these Letters
deliver'd, put the Liveries to making, and desire Gratianoto come anon to my Lodging.
Laun.
To him, Father.
Gob.
God bless your Worship.
Bass.
Gramercy, would'st thou ought with me?
Gob.
Here's my Son, Sir, a poor Boy.
Laun.
Not a poor Boy, Sir, but the Rich Jew's Man that
would, Sir, as my Father shall specifie.
Gob.
He hath a great Infection, Sir, as one would say, to
serve.
Laun.
Indeed the short and the long is, I serve the Jew,
and have a desire as my Father shall specifie.
Gob.
His Master and he, saving your Worship's Reverence,
are scarce Catercousins.
Laun.
To be brief, the very truth is, that the Jew having
done me wrong, doth cause me, as my Father, being I
hope an old Man, shall frutifie unto you.
Gob.
I have here a Dish of Doves that I would bestow
upon your Worship, and my Suit is—
Laun.
In very brief, the Suit is impertinent to my self,
as your Worship shall know by this honest old Man; and,
though I say it, though old Man, yet poor Man my Father.
Bass.
One speak for both, what would you?
Laun.
Serve you, Sir.
Gob.
This is the very defect of the matter, Sir.
Bass.
I know thee well, thou hast obtain'd thy Suit;
Shylock, thy Master, spoke with me this day,
And hath preferr'd thee, if it be Preferment,
To leave a rich Jew's Service, to become
The Follower of so poor a Gentleman.
Laun.
The old Proverb is very well parted between my
Master Shylock and you, Sir, you have the Grace of God,
Sir, and he hath enough.
-- 543 --
Bass.
Thou speak'st it well; go Father with thy Son,
Take leave of thy old Master, and enquire
My Lodging out; give him a Livery,
More garded than his Fellows: See it done.
Laun.
Father in, I cannot get a Service, no; I have ne'er a
Tongue in my Head; well, if any Man in Italy have a fairer
Table which doth offer to swear upon a Book, I shall have
good Fortune; go too, here's a simple Line of Life, here's a
small trifle of Wives, alas, fifteen Wives is nothing, eleven
Widows and nine Maids is a simple coming in for one Man,
and then to 'scape Drowning thrice, and to be in peril of
my Life with the edge of a Feather Bed, here are simple
'scapes: Well, if Fortune be a Woman, she's a good Wench
for this gere. Father come, I'll take my leave of the Jewin the twinkling.
[Exit Laun. and Gob.
Bass.
I pray thee, good Leonardo, think on this,
These things being bought and orderly bestowed,
Return in haste, for I do feast to night
My best esteem'd Acquaintance, hie thee, gone.
Leon.
My best Endeavours shall be done herein. Enter Gratiano.
Gra.
Where's your Master?
Leon.
Yonder, Sir, he walks.
Gra.
Signior Bassanio.
Bass.
Gratiano.
Gra.
I have a Suit to you.
Bass.
You have obtain'd it.
Gra.
You must not deny me, I must go with you to
Belmont.
Bass.
Why then you must: But hear thee, Gratiano,
Thou art too wild, too rude, and bold of Voice,
Parts that become thee happily enough,
And in such Eyes as ours appear not Faults;
But where they are not known, why there they shew
Something too liberal, pray thee take pain
To allay with some cold drops of Modesty
Thy skipping Spirit, lest through thy wild Behaviour
I be misconstru'd in the Place I go to,
And lose my Hopes.
-- 544 --
Gra.
Signior Bassanio, hear me,
If I do not put on a sober Habit,
Talk with Respect, and Swear but now and then,
Wear Prayer-books in my Pockets, look demurely,
Nay, more, while Grace is saying, hood mine Eyes
Thus with my Hat, and sigh and say, Amen;
Use all the observance of Civility,
Like one well studied in a sad ostent
To please his Grandam, never trust me more.
Bass.
Well, we shall see your bearing.
Gra.
Nay, but I bar to Night, you shall not gage me
By what we do to Night.
Bass.
No, that were pity.
I would entreat you rather to put on
Your boldest Suit of Mirth, for we have Friends
That purpose Merriment: But fare you well,
I have some Business.
Gra.
And I must to Lorenzo and the rest:
But we will visit you at Supper-time. [Exeunt.Enter Jessica and Launcelot.
Jes.
I am sorry thou wilt leave my Father so,
Our House is Hell, and thou a merry Devil
Did'st rob it of some taste of Tediousness;
But fare thee well, there is a Ducat for thee,
And Launcelot, soon at Supper shalt thou see
Lorenzo, who is thy new Master's Guest,
Give him this Letter, do it secretly,
And so farewel: I would not have my Father
See me talk with thee.
Laun.
Adieu; Tears exhibit my Tongue, most beautiful
Pagan, most sweet Jew; if a Christian did not play the
Knave and get thee, I am much deceived; But adieu, these
foolish Drops do somewhat drown my manly Spirit:
Adieu.
[Exit.
Jes.
Farewel, good Launcelot.
Alack, what hainous Sin is it in me,
To be asham'd to be my Father's Child?
But though I am a Daughter to his Blood,
I am not to his Manners: O Lorenzo,
If thou keep Promise, I shall end this Strife,
Become a Christian, and thy loving Wife. [Exit.
-- 545 --
Enter Gratiano, Lorenzo, Solarino, and Salanio.
Lor.
Nay, we will slink away in Supper-time,
Disguise us at my Lodging, and return all in an Hour.
Gra.
We have not made good Preparation.
Sal.
We have not spoke as yet of Torch-bearers.
Sola.
'Tis vile, unless it may be quaintly ordered,
And better in my mind not undertook.
Lor.
'Tis now but four a Clock, we have two Hours
To furnish us. Friend Launcelot, what's the News? Enter Launcelot with a Letter.
Laun.
And it shall please you to break up this, it shall
seem to signifie.
Lor.
I know the Hand, in faith 'tis a fair Hand,
And whiter than the Paper it writ on,
Is, the fair Hand that writ.
Gra.
Love-news, in faith.
Laun.
By your leave, Sir.
Lor.
Whither goest thou?
Laun.
Marry to bid my old Master the Jew to Sup to
Night with my new Master the Christian.
Lor.
Hold here, take this, tell gentle Jessica
I will not fail her, speak it privately.
Go, Gentlemen, will you prepare you for this Mask to Night?
I am provided of a Torch-bearer. [Exit Laun.
Sal.
Ay marry, I'll be gone about it strait.
Sola.
And so will I.
Lor.
Meet me and Gratiano at Gratiano's Lodging
Some hour hence.
Sal.
'Tis good we do so. [Exit.
Gra.
Was not that Letter from fair Jessica?
Lor.
I must needs tell thee all, she hath directed
How I shall take her from her Father's House,
What Gold and Jewels she is furnish'd with,
What Page's Suit she hath in readiness;
If e'er the Jew her Father come to Heav'n,
It will be for his gentle Daughter's sake;
And never dare Misfortune cross her Foot,
Unless she do it under this excuse,
That she is Issue to a faithless Jew.
-- 546 --
Come go with me, peruse this as thou goest,
Fair Jessica shall be my Torch-bearer.
[Exeunt.Enter Shylock and Launcelot.
Shy.
Well, thou shalt see, thy Eyes shall be thy Judge,
The difference of old Shylock and Bassanio;
What Jessica! Thou shalt not Gormandize
As thou hast done with me—What Jessica!
And sleep, and snore, and rend Apparel out.
Why Jessica, I say.
Laun.
Why Jessica!
Shy.
Who bids thee call? I did not bid thee call.
Laun.
Your Worship was wont to tell me
I could do nothing without bidding. Enter Jessica.
Jes.
Call you? What is your will?
Shy.
I am bid forth to Supper, Jessica,
There are my Keys: But wherefore should I go?
I am not bid for Love; they flatter me;
But yet I'll go in hate, to feed upon
The prodigal Christian. Jessica, my Girl,
Look to my House, I am right loth to go,
There is some ill a brewing towards my Rest,
For I did dream of Mony-Bags last Night.
Laun.
I beseech you Sir go, my young Master
Doth expect your reproach.
Shy.
So do I his.
Laun.
And they have conspired together, I will not say
you shall see a Mask, but if you do, then it was not for nothing
that my Nose fell a bleeding on Black Munday last,
at six a Clock i'th' morning, falling out that Year on Ash-Wednesday
was four Year in the afternoon.
Shy.
What are their Masks? Hear you me, Jessica,
Lock up my Doors, and when you hear the Drum
And the vile squealing of the wry-neck'd Fife,
Clamber not you up to the Casements then,
Nor thrust your Head into the publick Street
To gaze on Christian Fools with varnish'd Faces;
But stop my House's Ears, I mean my Casements,
Let not the sound of shallow Foppery enter
My sober House. By Jacob's Staff I swear,
-- 547 --
I have no mind of Feasting forth to Night:
But I will go; go you before me, Sirrah:
Say I will come.
Laun.
I will go before, Sir.
Mistress, look out at Window for all this;
There will come a Christian by,
Will be worth a Jew's Eye.
[Exit Laun.
Shy.
What says that Fool of Hagar's Off-spring? ha.
Jes.
His words were Farewel Mistress, nothing else.
Shy.
The Patch is kind enough, but a huge Feeder:
Snail-slow in profit, but sleeps by day
More than the wild Cat; Drones hive not with me,
Therefore I part with him, and part with him
To one that I would have him help to waste
His borrowed Purse. Well, Jessica, go in,
Perhaps I will return immediately;
Do as I bid you, shut Doors after you, fast bind, fast find,
A Proverb never stale in thrifty Mind. [Exit.
Jes.
Farewel; and if my Fortune be not crost,
I have a Father, you a Daughter lost. [Exit.Enter Gratiano and Salanio in Masquerade.
Gra.
This is the Pent-house under which Lorenzo desired
us to make a stand.
Sal.
His hour is almost past.
Gra.
And it is marvel he out-dwells his hour,
For Lovers ever run before the Clock.
Sal.
O ten times faster Venus Pigeons fly
To steal Loves Bonds new made, than they are wont
To keep obliged Faith unforfeited.
Gra.
That ever holds. Who riseth from a Feast
With that keen Appetite that he sits down?
Where is the Horse that doth untread again
His tedious Measures with the unbated Fire
That he did pace them first? All things that are,
Are with more Spirit chased than enjoy'd.
How like a Younker or a Prodigal
The skarfed Bark puts from her native Bay,
Hugg'd and embraced by the strumpet Wind;
How like a Prodigal she doth return
With over-wither'd Ribs and ragged Sails,
Lean, rent and beggar'd by the strumpet Wind?
-- 548 --
Enter Lorenzo.
Sal.
Here comes Lorenzo, more of this hereafter.
Lor.
Sweet Friends, your Patience for my long abode,
Not I, but my Affairs have made you wait;
When you shall please to play the Thieves for Wives,
I'll watch as long for you then; approach;
Here dwells my Father Jew. Hoa, who's within? Jessica above in Boy's Cloths.
Jes.
Who are you? tell me for more certainty,
Albeit I'll swear that I do know your Tongue.
Lor. Lorenzo, and thy Love.
Jes. Lorenzo certain, and my Love indeed,
For who love I so much? And now who knows
But you, Lorenzo, whether I am yours?
Lor.
Heav'n and thy Thoughts are witness that thou art.
Jes.
Here, catch this Casket, it is worth the pains.
I am glad 'tis Night, you do not look on me,
For I am much asham'd of my exchange;
But Love is blind, and Lovers cannot see
The pretty Follies that themselves commit;
For if they could, Cupid himself would blush
To see me thus transformed to a Boy.
Lor.
Descend, for you must be my Torch-bearer.
Jes.
What, must I hold a Candle to my Shame?
They in themselves goodsooth are too too light.
Why, 'tis an Office of discovery, Love,
And I should be obscur'd.
Lor.
So you are, Sweet,
Even in the lovely garnish of a Boy; but come at once,
For the close Night doth play the Run-away,
And we are staid for at Bassanio's Feast.
Jes.
I will make fast the Doors, and gild my self
With some more Ducats, and be with you straight.
Gra.
Now by my Hood, a Gentile, and no Jew.
Lor.
Beshrew me but I love her heartily.
For she is wise, if I can judge of her,
And fair she is, if that mine Eyes be true,
And true she is, as she hath prov'd her self;
And therefore like her self, wise, fair, and true,
Shall she be placed in my constant Soul.
-- 549 --
Enter Jessica.
What, art thou come? on Gentlemen, away,
Our masking Mates by this time for us stay.
[Exit.Enter Anthonio.
Anth.
Who's there?
Gra.
Signior Anthonio.
Anth.
Fie, fie, Gratiano, where are all the rest?
'Tis nine a Clock, our Friends all stay for you,
No Mask to Night, the Wind is come about,
Bassanio presently will go aboard,
I have sent twenty out to seek for you.
Gra.
I am glad on't, I desire no more Delight
Than to be under Sail, and gone to Night. [Exeunt.SCENE III.Belmont.Enter Portia with Morrochius, and both their Trains.
Por.
Go, draw aside the Curtain, and discover
The several Caskets to this Noble Prince.
Now make your Choice. [Three Caskets are discovered.
Mor.
The first of Gold, who this Inscription bears,
Who chuseth me, shall gain what many Men desire.
The second Silver, which this Promise carries,
Who chuseth me, shall get as much as he deserves.
This third, dull Lead, with warning all as blunt,
Who chuseth me, must give and hazard all he hath.
How shall I know if I do chuse the right?
Por.
The one of them contains my Picture, Prince,
If you chuse that, then I am yours withal.
Mor.
Some God direct my Judgment, let me see,
I will survey the Inscriptions back again;
What says this Leaden Casket?
Who chuseth me, must give and hazard all he hath.
Must give for what? for Lead?
This Casket threatens. Men that hazard all,
Do it in hope of fair Advantages:
A golden Mind stoops not to shows of Dross,
I'll then nor give nor hazard ought for Lead.
What says the Silver with her virgin hue?
Who chuseth me, shall get as much as he deserves.
-- 550 --
As much as he deserves; pause there, Morrochius,
And weigh thy value with an even hand,
If thou beest rated by the estimation,
Thou dost deserve enough, and yet enough
May not extend so far as to the Lady;
And yet to be afraid of my deserving,
Were but a weak disabling of my self.
As much as I deserve—why that's the Lady.
I do in Birth deserve her, and in Fortunes,
In Graces, and in Qualities of Breeding:
But more than these, in love I do deserve.
What if I stray'd no farther, but chuse here?
Let's see once more this Saying grav'd in Gold.
Who chuseth me, shall gain what many Men desire.
Why that's the Lady, all the World desires her:
From the four Corners of the Earth they come
To Kiss this Shrine, this mortal breathing Saint.
The Hircanian Desarts and the vast Wilds
Of wide Arabia are as Thorough-Fares now
For Princes to come view fair Portia.
The Watery Kingdom, whose ambitious Head
Spits in the Face of Heav'n, is no Bar
To stop the foreign Spirits, but they come,
As o'er a Brook, to see fair Portia.
One of these three contain her heav'nly Picture.
Is't like that Lead contains her? 'Twere Damnation
To think so base a thought; it were too gross
To rib her Searcloth in the obscure Grave;
Or shall I think in Silver she's immur'd,
Being ten times undervalued to try'd Gold;
O sinful thought, never so rich a Jem
Was set in worse than Gold! They have in England
A Coin that bears the Figure of an Angel
Stampt in Gold, but that's insculpt upon:
But here an Angel in a Golden Bed
Lyes all within. Deliver me the Key;
Here do I chuse, and thrive I as I may.
Por.
There take it, Prince, and if my Form lye there,
Then I am yours. [Unlocking the Gold Casket.
Mor.
O Hell! What have we here, a carrion Death,
Within whose empty Eye there is a written Scrowl;
-- 551 --
All that glisters is not Gold,
Often have you heard that told;
Many a Man his Life hath sold,
But my Outside to behold:
Gilded Timber do Worms infold:
Had you been as Wise as Bold,
Young in Limbs, in Judgment old,
Your Answer had not been inscrold,
Fare you well, your Suit is cold.
Mor.
Cold indeed, and Labour lost,
Then farewel Heat, and welcome Frost:
Portia adieu, I have too griev'd a Heart
To take a tedious leave: Thus Losers part. [Exit.
Por.
A gentle riddance: Draw the Curtains, go;
Let all of his Complexion chuse me so. [Exeunt.SCENE IV.Venice.Enter Solarino and Salanio.
Sal.
Why Man, I saw Bassanio under sail,
With him is Gratiano gone along;
And in their Ship I am sure Lorenzo is not.
Sola.
The Villain Jew with Outcries rais'd the Duke,
Who went with him to search Bassanio's Ship.
Sal.
He comes too late, the Ship was under sail;
But there the Duke was given to understand
That in a Gondalo were seen together
Lorenzo and his Amorous Jessica.
Besides, Anthonio certify'd the Duke
They were not with Bassanio in his Ship.
Sola.
I never heard a Passion so confus'd,
So strange, outrageous, and so variable,
As the Dog Jew did utter in the Streets;
My Daughter, O my Ducats, O my Daughter,
Fled with a Christian, O my Christian Ducats!
Justice, the Law, my Ducats, and my Daughter;
A sealed Bag, two sealed Bags of Ducats,
-- 552 --
Of double Ducats, stoln from me by my Daughter,
And Jewels, two rich and precious Stones,
Stoln by my Daughter, Justice, find the Girl,
She hath the Stones upon her, and the Ducats.
Sal.
Why all the Boys in Venice follow him,
Crying his Stones, his Daughter, and his Ducats.
Sola.
Let good Anthonio look he keep his Day,
Or he shall pay for this.
Sal.
Marry well remembred,
I reason'd with a Frenchman yesterday,
Who told me, in the narrow Seas that part
The French and English, there miscarried
A Vessel of our Country richly fraught:
I thought upon Anthonio when he told me,
And wish'd in silence that it were not his.
Sola.
You were best to tell Anthonio what you hear,
Yet do not suddenly, for it may grieve him.
Sal.
A kinder Gentleman treads not the Earth,
I saw Bassanio and Anthonio part,
Bassanio told him he would make some speed
Of his return: He answered, do not so,
Slubber not Business for my sake, Bassanio,
But stay the very riping of the time,
And for the Jew's Bond which he hath of me,
Let it not enter in your mind of Love;
Be merry, and employ your chiefest thoughts
To Courtship, and such fair ostents of Love
As shall conveniently become you there;
And even there, his Eye being big with Tears,
Turning his Face, he put his Hand behind him,
And with Affection wondrous sensible
He wrung Bassanio's Hand, and so they parted.
Sola.
I think he only loves the World for him,
I pray thee let us go and find him out,
And quicken his embraced Heaviness
With some Delight or other.
Sal.
Do we so. [Exeunt.
-- 553 --
SCENE V.Belmont.Enter Nerissa and a Servant.
Ner.
Quick, quick, I pray thee, draw the Curtain straight,
The Prince of Arragon hath ta'en his Oath,
And comes to his Election presently. Enter Arragon, his Train, Portia, Flor. Cornets.
The Caskets are discover'd.
Por.
Behold there stand the Caskets, noble Prince,
If you chuse that wherein I am contain'd,
Straight shall our Nuptial Rights be solemniz'd:
But if you fail, without more Speech, my Lord,
You must be gone from hence immediately.
Ar.
I am enjoin'd by Oath to observe three things;
First, never to unfold to any one
Which Casket 'twas I chose; next, if I fail
Of the right Casket, never in my Life
To woo a Maid in way of Marriage:
Lastly, if I do fail in fortune of my Choice,
Immediately to leave you, and be gone.
Por.
To these Injunctions every one doth swear
That comes to hazard for my worthless self.
Ar.
And so have I addrest me, Fortune now
To my Heart's Hope; Gold, Silver, and base Lead.
Who chuseth me, must give and hazard all he hath.
You shall look fairer e'er I give or hazard.
What says the Golden Chest, ha, let me see;
Who chuseth me, shall gain what many Men desire.
What many Men desire—that Many, may be meant
By the fool Multitude that chuse by Show,
Not learning more than the fond Eye doth teach,
Which pryes not to th' Interior; but like the Martlet
Builds in the Weather on the outward Wall,
Even in the Force and Road of Casualty.
I will not chuse what many Men desire,
Because I will not jump with common Spirits,
And rank me with the barbarous Multitudes.
Why then to thee thou silver Treasure-house,
Tell me once more, what Title thou dost bear;
Who chuseth me shall get as much as he deserves;
-- 554 --
And well said too, for who shall go about
To Cozen Fortune, and be honourable
Without the Stamp of Merit? let none presume
To wear an undeserved Dignity:
O that Estates, Degrees, and Offices,
Were not deriv'd corruptly, and that clear Honour
Were purchast by the Merit of the Wearer!
How many then should cover that stand bare?
How many be commanded that Command?
How much low Peasantry would then be gleaned
From the true Seed of Honour? And how much Honour
Pickt from the Chaff and Ruin of the Times,
To be new varnish'd? Well, but to my Choice;
Who chuseth me, shall get as much as he deserves:
I will assume Desert; give me a Key for this,
And instantly unlock my Fortunes here.
Por.
Too long a Pause for that which you find there. [Unlocking the silver Casket.
Ar.
What's here! the Portrait of a blinking Idiot,
Presenting me a Schedule? I will read it:
How much unlike art thou to Portia?
How much unlike my Hopes and my deserving?
Who chuseth me shall have as much as he deserves:
Did I deserve no more than a Fool's Head?
Is that my Prize? Are my Deserts no better?
Por.
To offend and judge are distinct Offices,
And of opposed Natures.
Ar.
What is here?
The Fire seven times tried this,
Seven times tried that Judgment is
That did never chuse amiss.
Some there be that Shadows kiss,
Such have but a Shadow'd Bliss:
There be Fools alive, I wis,
Silver'd o'er, and so was this:
Take what Wife you will to bed,
I will ever be your Head:
So be gone Sir, you are sped.
Ar.
Still more Fool I shall appear
By the time I linger here:
-- 555 --
With one Fool's Head I came to woo,
But I go away with two.
Sweet adieu, I'll keep my Oath,
Patiently to bear my Wroth.
[Exit.
Por.
Thus hath the Candle sing'd the Moth:
O these deliberate Fools! when they do chuse,
They have the Wisdom by their Wit to lose.
Ner.
The ancient Saying is no Heresy,
Hanging and wiving goes by Destiny.
Por.
Come, draw the Curtain, Nerissa. Enter a Servant.
Serv.
Where is my Lady?
Por.
Here, what would my Lord?
Serv.
Madam, there is alighted at your Gate
A young Venetian, one that comes before
To signify th' Approaching of his Lord,
From whom he bringeth sensible Regreets;
To wit, besides Commends and courteous Breath,
Gifts of rich Value; yet I have not seen
So likely an Ambassador of Love.
A Day in April never came so sweet,
To show how costly Summer was at Hand,
As this Fore-spurrer comes before his Lord.
Por.
No more I pray thee; I am half afeard
Thou wilt say anon, he is some kin to thee,
Thou spend'st such high-day Wit in praising him:
Come, come, Nerissa, for I long to see
Quick Cupid's Post, that comes so mannerly.
Ner. Bassanio, Lord Love, if thy will it be. [Exeunt.ACT III.SceneSCENE Venice.Enter Salanio and Solarino.
Sola.
Now, what News on the Ryalto?
Sal.
Why yet it lives there uncheckt, that Anthoniohath a Ship of rich Lading wrackt on the narrow
Seas; the Goodwins, I think, they call the Place; a very
dangerous Flat, and fatal, where the Carcasses of many a tall
-- 556 --
Ship lye bury'd, as they say, if my Gossip's Report be an
honest Woman of her Word.
Sola.
I would she were as lying a Gossip in that, as ever
knapt Ginger, or made her Neighbours believe she wept for
the Death of a third Husband; but it is true, without any
Slips of Prolixity, or crossing the plain High-way of Talk,
that the good Anthonio, the honest Anthonio—O that I had
a Title good enough to keep his Name Company!
Sal.
Come, the full stop.
Sola.
Ha, what say'st thou? Why the end is, he hath lost
a Ship.
Sal.
I would it might prove the end of his Losses.
Sola.
Let me say Amen betimes, lest the Devil cross my
Prayer; for here he comes in the Likeness of a Jew. How
now Shylock, what News among the Merchants?
Enter Shylock.
Shy.
You knew, none so well, none so well as you, of my
Daughter's Flight.
Sal.
That's certain; I for my part knew the Tailor that
made the Wings she flew withal.
Sola.
And Shylock for his own part knew the Bird was
fledg'd, and then it is the Complexion of them all to leave
the Dam.
Shy.
She is damn'd for it.
Sal.
That's certain, if the Devil may be her Judge.
Shy.
My own Flesh and Blood to rebel.
Sola.
Out upon it, old Carrion, Rebels it at these Years?
Shy.
I say, my Daughter is my Flesh and Blood.
Sal.
There is more Difference between thy Flesh and hers,
than between Jet and Ivory; more between your Bloods,
than there is between red Wine and Rhenish: But tell us,
do you hear whether Anthonio have had any Loss at Sea or
no?
Shy.
There I have another bad Match, a Bankrupt, a
Prodigal, who dare scarce shew his Head on the Ryalto, a
Beggar! that was us'd to come so smug upon the Mart; let
him look to his Bond; he was wont to call me Usurer; let
him look to his Bond; he was wont to lend Mony for a
Christian Courtesie; let him look to his Bond.
Sal.
Why I am sure if he forfeit, thou wilt not take his
Flesh: What's that good for?
-- 557 --
Shy.
To bait Fish withal. If it will feed nothing else,
it will feed my Revenge; he hath disgrac'd me, and hindred
me half a Million, laught at my Losses, mockt at my Gains,
scorn'd my Nation, thwarted my Bargains, cool'd my Friends,
heated mine Enemies; and what's the Reason? 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? If you prick
us, do we not bleed? if you tickle us, do we not laugh?
if you poison us, do we not die? and if you wrong us,
shall we not revenge? if we are like you in the rest, we will
resemble you in that. If a Jew wrong a Christian, what
is his Humility? Revenge. If a Christian wrong a Jew,
what should his Sufferance be by a Christian Example?
Why Revenge. The Villany you teach me I will execute,
and it shall go hard but I will better the Instruction.
Enter a Servant from Anthonio.
Ser.
Gentlemen, my Master Anthonio is at his House, and
desires to speak with you both.
Sal.
We have been up and down to seek him.
Enter Tuball.
Sola.
Here comes another of the Tribe; a third cannot be
match'd, unless the Devil himself turn Jew.
[Exeunt Sala. and Solar.
Shy.
How now Tuball, what News from Genoua? Hast
thou found my Daughter?
Tub.
I often came where I did hear of her, but cannot
find her.
Shy.
Why there, there, there, there, a Diamond gone cost
me two thousand Ducats in Frankford; the Curse never fell
upon our Nation 'till now, I never felt it 'till now; two
thousand Ducats in that, and other precious, precious Jewels.
I would my Daughter were dead at my Foot, and the Jewels
in her Ear; would she were hearst at my Foot, and the
Ducats in her Coffin; No News of them; why so? and I
know not how much is spent in the Search: why then Loss
upon Loss, the Thief gone with so much, and so much to
-- 558 --
find the Thief, and no Satisfaction, no Revenge, nor no
ill Luck stirring, but what lights a my Shoulders, no Sighs
but a my breathing, no Tears but a my shedding.
Tub.
Yea, other Men have ill Luck too; Anthonio, as I
heard in Genoua—
Shy.
What, what, ill Luck, ill Luck?
Tub.
Hath an Argosie cast away, coming from Tripolis.
Shy.
I thank God, I thank God; is it true? is it
true?
Tub.
I spoke with some of the Sailors that escap'd the
Wrack.
Shy.
I thank thee good Tuball; good News, good News;
ha, ha, where? in Genoua?
Tub.
Your Daughter spent in Genoua, as I heard, one
Night fourscore Ducats.
Shy.
Thou stick'st a Dagger in me; I shall never see my
Gold again; fourscore Ducats at a Sitting, fourscore Ducats!
Tub.
There came divers of Anthonio's Creditors in my
Company to Venice, that swear he cannot chuse but
break.
Shy.
I am glad of it, I'll plague him, I'll torture him; I
am glad of it.
Tub.
One of them shew'd me a Ring that he had of your
Daughter for a Monky.
Shy.
Out upon her, thou torturest me, Tuball; it was my
Turquoise, I had it of Leah when I was a Batchelor; I would
not have given it for a Wilderness of Monkies.
Tub.
But Anthonio is certainly undone.
Shy.
Nay, that's true, that's very true; go, Tuball, fee me an
Officer, bespeak him a Fortnight before, I will have the
Heart of him, if he forfeit; for were he out of Venice, I
can make what Merchandize I will: Go, Tuball, and meet
me at our Synagogue; go, good Tuball, at our Synagogue,
Tuball.
[Exeunt.
-- 559 --
SCENE II.Belmont.Enter Bassanio, Portia, Gratiano, and Attendants.
The Caskets are set out.
Por.
I pray you tarry, pause a Day or two
Before you hazard; for in chusing wrong
I lose your Company; therefore forbear a while,
There's something tells me, but it is not Love,
I would not lose you, and you know your self,
Hate counsels not in such a Quality.
But lest you should not understand me well,
And yet a Maiden hath no Tongue but Thought,
I would detain you here some Month or two,
Before you venture for me. I could teach you
How to chuse right, but then I am forsworn;
So will I never be, so may you miss me;
But if you do, you'll make me wish a Sin,
That I had been forsworn. Beshrew your Eyes,
They have o'er-look'd me, and divided me;
One half of me is yours, the other half
Mine own, I would say: But first mine, then yours;
And so all yours. O these naughty Times
Puts Bars between the Owners and their Rights:
And so tho' yours, not yours, prove it so,
Let Fortune go to Hell for it, not I.
I speak too long, but 'tis to poize the Time,
To eche it, and draw it out in Length,
To stay you from Election.
Bass.
Let me chuse;
For as I am I live upon the Rack.
Por.
Upon the Rack, Bassanio, then confess
What Treason there is mingled with your Love.
Bass.
None but that ugly Treason of Mistrust,
Which makes me fear the enjoying of my Love:
There may as well be Amity and Life,
'Tween Snow and Fire, as Treason and my Love.
Por.
Ay, but I fear you speak upon the Rack,
Where Men enforced do speak any thing.
Bass.
Promise me Life, and I'll confess the Truth.
Por.
Well then, confess and live.
-- 560 --
Bass.
Confess and Love,
Had been the very Sum of my Confession.
O happy Torment, when my Torturer
Doth teach me Answers for Deliverance:
But let me to my Fortune and the Caskets.
Por.
Away then, I am lockt in one of them;
If you do love me, you will find me out.
Nerissa, and the rest, stand all aloof,
Let Musick sound while he doth make his Choice;
Then if he lose, he makes a Swan-like end,
Fading in Musick. That the Comparison
May stand more proper, my Eye shall be the Stream
And watry Death-bed for him: He may win,
And what is Musick then? Then Musick is
Even as the Flourish, when true Subjects bow
To a new crowned Monarch: Such it is,
As are those dulcet Sounds in break of Day,
That creep into the dreaming Bridegroom's Ear,
And summon him to Marriage. Now he goes
With no less Presence, but with much more Love
Than young Alcides, when he did redeem
The Virgin-tribute, paid by howling Troy
To the Sea-monster: I stand for Sacrifice;
The rest aloof are the Dardanian Wives,
With bleared Visages come forth to view
The Issue of th' Exploit. Go Hercules,
Live thou, I live, with much, much more Dismay
I view the Fight, than thou that mak'st the Fray. [Musick within.
A Song whilst Bassanio comments on the Caskets to himself.
Tell me where is Fancy bred,
Or in the Heart, or in the Head:
How begot, how nourished?
It is engendred in the Eyes,
With Gazing fed, and Fancy dies
In the Cradle where it lyes:
Let us all ring Fancy's Knell.
I'll begin it.
Ding, dong, Bell.
All.
Ding, dong, Bell.
-- 561 --
Bass.
So may the outward Shows be least themselves.
The World is still deceiv'd with Ornament.
In Law what Plea so tainted and corrupt,
But being season'd with a gracious Voice,
Obscures the Show of Evil? In Religion
What damned Error, but some sober Brow
Will bless it, and approve it with a Text,
Hiding the Grossness with fair Ornament?
There is no Vice so simple, but assumes
Some Mark of Virtue on his outward Parts;
How many Cowards, whose Hearts are all as false
As Stairs of Sand, wear yet upon their Chins
The Beards of Hercules and frowning Mars?
Who inward searcht, have Livers white as Milk,
And these assume but Valour's Excrement,
To render them redoubted. Look on Beauty,
And you shall see 'tis purchas'd by the Weight,
Which therein works a Miracle in Nature,
Making them lightest that wear most of it:
So are those crisped snaky golden Locks
Which makes such wanton Gambols with the Wind
Upon supposed Fairness, often known
To be the dowry of a second Head;
The Scull that bred them in the Sepulcher.
Thus Ornament is but the gilded Shore
To a most dangerous Sea; the beauteous Scarf
Veiling an Indian Beauty; in a Word,
The seeming Truth which cunning Times put on
To entrap the Wisest. Therefore, thou gaudy Gold,
Hard Food for Midas, I will none of thee,
Nor none of thee, thou pale and common Drudge
'Tween Man and Man; but thou, thou meager Lead,
Which rather threatnest than dost promise ought;
Thy Paleness moves me more than Eloquence,
And here chuse I, Joy be the Consequence.
Por.
How all the other Passions fleet to Air,
As doubtful Thoughts, and rash embrac'd Despair,
And shuddring Fear, and green-ey'd Jealousie.
O Love be moderate, allay thy Extasie;
In measure rain thy Joy, scant this Excess,
I feel too much thy Blessing, make it less,
-- 562 --
For fear I surfeit.
[Opening the leaden Casket.
Bass.
What find I here?
Fair Portia's Counterfeit. What Demy-God
Hath come so near Creation? Move these Eyes?
Or whether riding on the Balls of mine
Seem they in Motion? Here are sever'd Lips
Parted with Sugar Breath; so sweet a Bar
Should sunder such sweet Friends: Here in her Hairs
The Painter plays the Spider, and hath woven
A golden Mesh t' intrap the Hearts of Men
Faster than Gnats in Cobwebs: But her Eyes,
How could he see to do them? Having made one,
Methinks it should have Power to steal both his,
And leave it self unfinish'd: Yet look how far
The Substance of my Praise doth wrong this Shadow
In underprising it; so far this Shadow
Doth limp behind the Substance. Here's the Scrowl,
The Continent and Summary of my Fortune.
You that chuse not by the View,
Chance as fair, and chuse as true:
Since this Fortune falls to you,
Be content, and seek no new.
If you be well pleased with this,
And hold your Fortune for your Bliss,
Turn you where your Lady is,
And claim her with a loving Kiss.
A gentle Scrowl; Fair Lady, by your Leave,
[Kissing her.
I come by Note to give, and to receive.
Like one of two contending in a Prize,
That thinks he hath done well in Peoples Eyes;
Hearing Applause and universal Shout,
Giddy in Spirit, still gazing in a Doubt,
Whether those Peals of Praise be his or no;
So thrice fair Lady stand I even so,
As doubtful whether what I see be true,
Until confirm'd, sign'd, ratify'd by you.
Por.
You see, my Lord Bassanio, where I stand,
Such as I am; tho' for my self alone,
I would not be ambitious in my Wish,
-- 563 --
To wish my self much better; yet for you,
I would be trebled twenty Times my self,
A thousand times more fair, ten thousand Times
More rich, that to stand high in your Account,
I might in Virtues, Beauties, Livings, Friends,
Exceed Account; but the full Sum of me
Is Sum of nothing; which to term in gross,
Is an unlesson'd Girl, unschool'd, unpractis'd:
Happy in this, she is not yet so old
But she may learn; happier then in this,
She is not bred so dull but she can learn;
Happiest of all is, that her gentle Spirit
Commits it self to yours to be directed,
As from her Lord, her Governor, her King,
My self, and what is mine, to you and yours
Is now converted. But now I was the Lady
Of this fair Mansion, Mistress of my Servants,
Queen o'er my self, and even now; but now
This House, these Servants, and this same my self
Are yours my Lord, I give them with this Ring,
Which when you part from, lose, or give away,
Let it presage the Ruin of your Love,
And be my Vantage to exclaim on you.
Bass.
Madam, you have bereft me of all Words,
Only my Blood speaks to you in my Veins,
And there is such Confusion in my Powers,
As after some Oration fairly spoke
By a beloved Prince, there doth appear
Among the buzzing pleased Multitude,
Where every something being blent together,
Turns to a wild of nothing, save of Joy
Exprest, and not exprest; but when this Ring
Parts from this Finger, then parts Life from hence;
O then be bold to say, Bassanio's dead.
Ner.
My Lord and Lady, it is now our time,
That have stood by, and seen our Wishes prosper,
To cry Good Joy, good Joy, my Lord and Lady.
Gra.
My Lord Bassanio, and my gentle Lady,
I wish you all the Joy that you can wish;
For I am sure you can wish none from me:
And when your Honours mean to solemnize
-- 564 --
The Bargain of your Faith, I do beseech you
Even at that time I may be married too.
Bass.
With all my Heart, so thou canst get a Wife.
Gra.
I thank your Lordship, you have got me one.
My Eyes, my Lord, can look as swift as yours:
You saw the Mistress, I beheld the Maid;
You lov'd; I lov'd for Intermission.
No more pertains to me, my Lord, than you:
Your Fortune stood upon the Caskets there,
And so did mine too, as the Matter falls:
For wooing Herd, until I sweat again,
And swearing 'till my very Roof was dry
With Oaths of Love, at last, if Promise last,
I got a Promise of this fair one here,
To have her Love, provided that your Fortune
Atchiev'd her Mistress.
Por.
Is this true, Nerissa?
Ner.
Madam, it is so, so you stand pleas'd withal.
Bass.
And do you, Gratiano, mean good Faith?
Gra.
Yes Faith my Lord.
Bass.
Our Feast shall be much honoured in your Marriage.
Gra.
We'll play with them, the first Boy for a thousand
Ducats.
Ner.
What, and stake down?
Gra.
No, we shall ne'er win at that Sport, and stake down.
But who comes here? Lorenzo and his Infidel?
What, and my old Venetian Friend, Salanio? Enter Lorenzo, Jessica, and Salanio.
Bass. Lorenzo and Salanio, welcome hither.
If that the Youth of my new Interest here
Have Power to bid you welcome. By your Leave
I bid my very Friends and Country-men,
Sweet Portia, welcome.
Por.
So do I, my Lord; they are intirely welcome.
Lor.
I thank your Honour: For my part, my Lord,
My Purpose was not to have seen you here,
But meeting with Salanio by the way,
He did intreat me past all saying nay,
To come with him along.
-- 565 --
Sal.
I did my Lord,
And I have reason for it; Signior Anthonio
Commends him to you.
Bass.
E'er I ope this Letter,
I pray you tell me how my good Friend doth.
Sal.
Not sick, my Lord, unless it be in Mind;
Nor well, unless in Mind: His Letter there
Will shew you his Estate. Bassanio opens the Letter.
Gra. Nerissa, cheer yond Stranger, bid her welcome.
Your Hand, Salanio; what's the News from Venice?
How doth that Royal Merchant, good Anthonio?
I know he will be glad of our Success:
We are the Jasons, we have won the Fleece.
Sal.
I would you had won the Fleece that he hath lost.
Por.
There are some shrewd Contents in yond same Paper,
That steals the Colour from Bassanio's Cheek:
Some dear Friend dead, else nothing in the World
Could turn so much the Constitution
Of any constant Man. What, worse and worse!
With Leave, Bassanio, I am half your self,
And must freely have the half of any thing
That this same Paper brings you.
Bass.
O sweet Portia!
Here are a few of the unpleasant'st Words
That ever blotted Paper. Gentle Lady,
When I did first impart my Love to you,
I freely told you, all the Wealth I had
Ran in my Veins. I was a Gentleman,
And then I told you true; and yet dear Lady,
Rating my self at nothing, you shall see
How much I was a Braggart, when I told you
My State was nothing, I should then have told you,
That I was worse than nothing. For indeed
I have engag'd my self to a dear Friend;
Engag'd my Friend to his meer Enemy,
To feed my Means. Here is a Letter, Lady;
The Paper as the Body of my Friend,
And every Word in it a gaping Wound,
Issuing Life-blood. But is it true, Salanio?
Have all his Ventures fail'd! What, not one hit!
-- 566 --
From Tripolis, from Mexico, from England,
From Lisbon, Barbary, and India,
And not one Vessel 'scape the dreadful Touch
Of Merchant-marring Rocks?
Sal.
Not one, my Lord:
Besides, it should appear, that if he had
The present Mony to discharge the Jew,
He would not take it. Never did I know
A Creature that did bear the Shape of Man,
So keen and greedy to confound a Man.
He plies the Duke at Morning and at Night,
And doth impeach the Freedom of the State,
If they deny him Justice. Twenty Merchants,
The Duke himself, and the Magnificoes
Of greatest Port have all persuaded with him,
But none can drive him from the envious Plea
Of Forfeiture, of Justice, and his Bond.
Jes.
When I was with him, I have heard him swear,
To Tuball and to Chus, his Country-men,
That he would rather have Anthonio's Flesh
Than twenty times the Value of the Sum
That he did owe him; and I know, my Lord,
If Law, Authority, and Power deny not,
It will go hard with poor Anthonio.
Por.
Is it your dear Friend that is thus in Trouble?
Bass.
The dearest Friend to me, the kindest Man,
The best condition'd, and unweary'd Spirit
In doing Courtesies; and one in whom
The ancient Roman Honour more appears
Than any that draws Breath in Italy.
Por.
What Sum owes he the Jew?
Bass.
For me three thousand Ducats.
Por.
What, no more?
Pay him six thousand, and deface the Bond;
Double six thousand, and then treble that,
Before a Friend of this Description
Shall lose a Hair through my Bassanio's Fault.
First go with me to Church, and call me Wife,
And then away to Venice to your Friend;
For never shall you lye by Portia's Side
With an unquiet Soul. You shall have Gold
-- 567 --
To pay the petty Debt twenty times over.
When it is paid, bring your true Friend along;
My Maid Nerissa, and my self mean time,
Will live as Maids and Widows: Come away,
For you shall hence upon my Wedding-day.
Bid your Friends welcome, show a merry Cheer;
Since you are dear bought, I will love you dear.
But let me hear the Letter of your Friend.
Bass. reads.
Sweet Bassanio, my Ships have all miscarry'd, my
Creditors grow cruel, my Estate is very low,
my Bond to the Jew is forfeit; and since, in paying it, it is impossible
I should live, all Debts are cleared between you and I,
if I might see you at my Death; notwithstanding use your
Pleasure: If your Love do not persuade you to come, let not
my Letter.
Por.
O Love! dispatch all Business, and be gone.
Bass.
Since I have your good Leave to go away,
I will make haste; but 'till I come again,
No Bed shall e'er be guilty of my Stay,
Nor Rest be Interposer 'twixt us two. [Exeunt.SCENE III.Venice.Enter Shylock, Solarino, Anthonio, and the Goaler.
Shy.
Goaler, look to him: Tell me not of Mercy.
This is the Fool that lends out Mony Gratis.
Goaler, look to him.
Ant.
Hear me yet, good Shylock.
Shy.
I'll have my Bond; speak not against my Bond:
I have sworn an Oath that I will have my Bond.
Thou call'st me Dog before thou hadst a Cause;
But since I am a Dog, beware my Fangs:
The Duke shall grant me Justice. I do wonder,
Thou naughty Goaler, that thou art so fond
To come Abroad with him at his Request.
Ant.
I pray thee hear me speak.
Shy.
I'll have my Bond; I will not hear thee speak:
I'll have my Bond; and therefore speak no more.
I'll not be made a soft and dull-ey'd Fool,
To shake the Head, relent, and sigh and yield
To Christian Intercessors. Follow not;
-- 568 --
I'll have no speaking; I will have my Bond.
[Exit Shylock.
Sola.
It is the most impenetrable Cur
That ever kept with Men.
Ant.
Let him alone,
I'll follow him no more with bootless Prayers:
He seeks my Life; his Reason well I know;
I oft deliver'd from his Forfeitures
Many that have at times made Moan to me;
Therefore he hates me.
Sola.
I am sure the Duke will never grant this Forfeiture
to hold.
Ant.
The Duke cannot deny the Course of Law;
For the Commodity that Strangers have
With us in Venice, if it be deny'd,
Will much impeach the Justice of the State,
Since that the Trade and Profit of the City
Consisteth of all Nations. Therefore go,
These Griefs and Losses have so bated me,
That I shall hardly spare a Pound of Flesh
To Morrow to my bloody Creditor.
Well, Goaler, on; pray God Bassanio come
To see me pay his Debt, and then I care not. [Exeunt.SCENE IV.Belmont.Enter Portia, Nerissa, Lorenzo, Jessica, and a Servant of Portia's.
Lor.
Madam, although I speak it in your Presence,
You have a noble and a true Conceit
Of God-like Amity, which appears most strongly
In bearing thus the Absence of your Lord:
But if you knew to whom you shew this Honour,
How true a Gentleman you send Relief to,
How dear a Lover of my Lord, your Husband,
I know you would be prouder of the Work,
Than customary Bounty can enforce you.
Por.
I never did repent for doing good,
Nor shall not now; for in Companions
That do converse and waste the Time together,
Whose Souls do bear an equal Yoke of Love,
There must be needs a like Proportion
Of Lineaments, of Manners, and of Spirit;
-- 569 --
Which makes me think that this Anthonio,
Being the Bosom-lover of my Lord,
Must needs be like my Lord. If it be so,
How little is the Cost I have bestowed
In purchasing the Semblance of my Soul
From out the state of hellish Cruelty.
This comes too near the praising of my self;
Therefore no more of it: Here are other things.
Lorenzo, I commit into your Hands,
The Husbandry and Manage of my House,
Until my Lord's return. For mine own part,
I have toward Heav'n breath'd a secret Vow,
To live in Prayer and Contemplation,
Only attended by Nerissa here,
Until her Husband and my Lord's return.
There is a Monastery two Miles off,
And there we will abide. I do desire you
Not to deny this Imposition,
The which my Love and some Necessity
Now lays upon you.
Lor.
Madam, with all my Heart.
I shall obey you in all fair Commands.
Por.
My People do already know my mind,
And will acknowledge you and Jessica
In place of Lord Bassanio and my self.
So fare you well 'till we shall meet again.
Lor.
Fair Thoughts and happy Hours attend on you.
Jes.
I wish your Ladyship all Heart's Content.
Por.
I thank you for your Wish, and am well pleas'd
To wish it back on you: Fare you well, Jessica.
[Ex. Jes. & Lor
Now, Balthazar, as I have ever found thee honest, true,
So let me find thee still: Take this same Letter,
And use thou all the Endeavour of a Man,
In speed to Mantua; see thou render this
Into my Cousin's Hand, Doctor Bellario,
And look what Notes and Garments he doth give thee,
Bring them, I pray thee, with imagin'd speed
Unto the Traject, to the common Ferry
Which trades to Venice: Waste no time in Words,
But get thee gone; I shall be there before thee.
Bal.
Madam, I go with all convenient speed. [Exit.
-- 570 --
Por.
Come on, Nerissa, I have Work in hand
That you yet know not of: We'll see our Husbands
Before they think of us?
Ner.
Shall they see us?
Por.
They shall, Nerissa; but in such a Habit,
That they shall think we are accomplished
With that we lack. I'll hold thee any Wager,
When we are both Accoutred like Young Men,
I'll prove the prettier Fellow of the two,
And wear my Dagger with the braver Grace,
And speak between the Change of Man and Boy,
With a reed Voice; and turn two mincing Steps
Into a manly Stride, and speak of Frays,
Like a fine bragging Youth; and tell quaint Lies,
How honourable Ladies sought my Love,
Which I denying, they fell sick and died.
I could not do withal: Then I'll repent,
And wish for all that, that I had not kill'd them.
And twenty of these puny Lies I'll tell,
Then Men shall swear I have discontinued School
Above a Twelve-month. I have within my Mind
A thousand raw Tricks of these bragging Jacks,
Which I will practise.
Ner.
Why, shall we turn to Men?
Por.
Fie, what a question's that,
If thou wert near a lewd Interpreter?
But come, I'll tell thee all my whole Device
When I am in my Coach, which stays for us
At the Park Gate; and therefore haste away,
For we must measure Twenty Miles to day. [Exeunt.Enter Launcelot and Jessica.
Laun.
Yes, truly: For look you, the Sins of the Father
are to be laid upon the Children; therefore, I promise you,
I fear you. I was always plain with you; and so now I
speak my Agitation of the Matter: Therefore be of good
cheer; for truly I think you are Damn'd: There is but one
hope in it that can do you any good, and that is but a kind
of Bastard-hope neither.
Jes.
And what hope is that, I pray thee?
Laun.
Marry you may partly hope that your Father got
you not, that you are not the Jew's Daughter.
-- 571 --
Jes.
That were a kind of Bastard-hope indeed; so the
Sins of my Mother should be visited upon me.
Laun.
Truly then I fear you are Damn'd both by Father
and Mother: Thus when you shun Sylla, your Father, you fall
into Charibdis, your Mother: Well, you are gone both ways.
Jes.
I shall be saved by my Husband; he hath made me
a Christian.
Laun.
Truly the more to blame he; we were Christians
enough before, e'en as many as could well live one by another:
This making of Christians will raise the Price of Hogs;
if we grow all to be Pork-eaters, we shall not shortly have a
Rasher on the Coals for Mony.
Enter Lorenzo.
Jes.
I'll tell my Husband, Launcelot, what you say:
Here he comes.
Lor.
I shall grow Jealous of you shortly, Launcelot, if
you thus get my Wife into Corners.
Jes.
Nay, you need not fear us, Lorenzo; Launcelot and
I are out; he tells me flatly, there is no Mercy for me in
Heav'n, because I am a Jew's Daughter: And he says,
you are no good Member of the Commonwealth; for in
converting Jews to Christians, you raise the Price of Pork.
Lor.
I shall answer that better to the Commonwealth than
you can the getting up of the Negro's Belly: The Moor is
with Child by you, Launcelot.
Laun.
It is much that the Moor should be more than Reason:
But if she be less than an honest Woman, she is indeed
more than I took her for.
Lor.
How every Fool can play upon the Word! I think
the best Grace of Wit will shortly turn into Silence, and Discourse
grow commendable in none only but Parrats. Go in,
Sirrah, bid them prepare for Dinner.
Laun.
That is done, Sir; they have all Stomachs.
Lor.
Goodly Lord, what a Wit-snapper are you! Then
bid them prepare Dinner.
Laun.
That is done too, Sir; only Cover is the word.
Lor.
Will you cover then, Sir?
Laun.
Not so, Sir, neither; I know my Duty.
Lor.
Yet more quarrelling with occasion! wilt thou shew
the whole Wealth of thy Wit in an instant? I pray thee understand
a plain Man in his plain Meaning: Go to thy Fellows,
bid them cover the Table, serve in the Meat, and we will
come in to Dinner.
-- 572 --
Laun.
For the Table, Sir, it shall be served in; for the
Meat, Sir, it shall be covered; for your coming in to Dinner,
Sir, why let it be as Homours and Conceits shall govern.
[Exit Laun.
Lor.
O dear Discretion, how his Words are suited!
The Fool hath planted in his Memory
An Army of good Words; and I do know
A many Fools that stand in better place,
Garnish'd like him, that for a tricksie Word
Defie the Matter: How cheer'st thou, Jessica?
And now, good Sweet, say thy Opinion,
How dost thou like the Lord Bassanio's Wife?
Jes.
Past all expressing: It is very meet
The Lord Bassanio live an upright Life.
For having such a Blessing in his Lady,
He finds the Joys of Heav'n here on Earth:
And if on Earth he do not mean it, it
Is reason he should never come to Heav'n.
Why, if two gods should play some heav'nly Match,
And on the Wager lay two earthly Women,
And Portia one, there must be something else
Pawn'd with the other; for the poor rude World
Hath not her Fellow.
Lor.
Even such a Husband
Hast thou of me, as she is for a Wife.
Jes.
Nay, but ask my Opinion too of that.
Lor.
I will anon: First let us go to Dinner.
Jes.
Nay, let me praise you while I have a Stomach.
Lor.
No, pray thee, let it serve for Table-talk;
Then howsome'er thou speak'st, 'mongst other things,
I shall digest it.
Jes.
Well, I'll set you forth. [Exeunt.ACT IV.SCENE I.Venice.Enter the Duke, the Senators, Anthonio, Bassanio, and Gratiano.
Duke. What, is Anthonio here?
Ant.
Ready, so please your Grace.
Duke.
I am sorry for thee; thou art come to answer
-- 573 --
A stony Adversary, an inhuman Wretch,
Uncapable of Pity, void and empty
From any dram of Mercy.
Ant.
I have heard
Your Grace hath ta'en great pains to qualifie
His rigorous 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 is 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,
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 hudled 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 Courtesie.
We all expect a gentle Answer, Jew.
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 answered?
-- 574 --
What if my House be troubled with a Rat,
And I be pleas'd to give ten thousand Ducats
To have it brain'd? 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.
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 rendred
Why he cannot abide a gaping Pig,
Why he a harmless necessary Cat,
Why he a woollen 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 answered?
Bass.
This is no Answer, thou unfeeling Man,
To 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.
Every Offence is not a Hate at first.
Shy.
What, would'st thou have a Serpent sting thee twice?
Ant.
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,
Or even as well use Question with the Wolf,
The Ewe bleat for the Lamb: When you behold,
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.
You may as well do any thing most hard,
As seek to soften that, than which what harder,
His Jewish Heart. Therefore I do beseech you
Make no more offers, use no farther means,
But with all brief and plain conveniency
Let me have Judgment, and the Jew his Will.
-- 575 --
Bass.
For thy three thousand Ducats here is six.
Shy.
If every Ducat in six thousand Ducats
Were in six parts, and every part a Ducat,
I would not draw them, I would have my Bond.
Duke.
How shalt thou hope for Mercy, rendring 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 Burthens? Let their Beds
Be made as soft as yours, and let their Pallats
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, fie upon your Law,
There is no force in the Decrees of Venice:
I stand for Judgment; answer; shall I have it?
Duke.
Upon my Power 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 Messengers.
Bass.
Good cheer, Anthonio; What Man, Courage yet:
The Jew shall have my Flesh, Blood, Bones, and all,
E'er thou shalt lose for me one drop of Blood.
Ant.
I am a tainted Weather of the Flock,
Meetest for Death: The weakest kind of Fruit
Drops earliest to the Ground, 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?
-- 576 --
Shy.
To cut the Forfeiture from that Bankrupt there.
Gra.
Not on thy soal, but on thy Soul, harsh Jew,
Thou mak'st thy Knife keen; but no Metal can,
No, not the Hangman's Ax, bear half the keenness
Of thy sharp Envy. Can no Prayers 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,
Even from the Gallows did his fell Soul fleet,
And whil'st thou layest in thy unhallowed Dam,
Infus'd it self 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 endless Ruin. I stand here for Law.
Duke.
This Letter from Bellario doth commend
A Young and Learned Doctor in 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 receit 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 Case in Controversie, between the Jew and Anthonio
the Merchant. We turn'd o'er many Books together: He is
furnished with my Opinion, which bettered 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
-- 577 --
knew so young a Body with so old a Head. I leave him to
your gracious Acceptance, whose trial shall better publish his
Commendation.
Enter Portia, Dress'd like a Doctor of Laws.
Duke.
You hear the Learn'd Bellario what he writes,
And here, I take it, is the Doctor come.
Give me your hand. Came you from old Bellario?
Por.
I did, my Lord.
Duke.
You are welcome: Take your Place.
Are you acquainted with the Difference,
That holds this present Question in the Court?
Por.
I am informed throughly 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 Anthonio.
Ant.
Ay, so he says,
Por.
Do you confess the Bond?
Ant.
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 Power,
The Attribute to Awe and Majesty,
Wherein doth sit the Dread and Fear of Kings;
But Mercy is above this sceptred Sway,
It is enthroned in the Hearts of Kings,
It is an Attribute to God himself;
And earthly Power doth then shew likest God's,
When Mercy seasons Justice. Therefore, Jew,
Tho' Justice be thy Plea, consider this,
-- 578 --
That in the course of Justice none of us
Should see Salvation. We do pray for Mercy,
And that same Prayer 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 course 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 Mony?
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 this 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 President,
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!
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 Mony, bid me tear the Bond.
Shy.
When it is paid according to the Tenure.
It doth appear you are a worthy Judge;
You know the Law, your Exposition
Hath been most sound. I charge you by the Law,
-- 579 --
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.
Ant.
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 thy Bosom.
Shy.
Ay his Breast,
So says the Bond, doth it not, noble Judge?
Nearest his Heart, those are the very words.
Por.
It is so. Are there Ballances here 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 not 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?
Ant.
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 her self 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 lingring Penance
Of such a 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.
-- 580 --
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 it self;
But Life it self, my Wife, and all the World,
Are not with me esteem'd above thy Life.
I would lose all, I'd sacrifice them all
Here to this Devil, to deliver you.
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 Power 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 have a Daughter,
Would any of the Stock of Barrabas
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 expresly are a Pound of Flesh.
Then take thy Bond, take thou thy 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.
Thy self shalt see the Act:
For as thou urgest Justice, be assur'd
Thou shalt have Justice, more than thou desirest.
-- 581 --
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 Mony.
Por.
Soft, 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 it so much
As makes it light or heavy in the Substance,
Or the Division of the twentieth part
Of one poor Scruple; nay, if the Scale do turn
But in the estimation of a Hair,
Thou diest, 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 thy 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 meerly 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 have barely 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 seek 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 lyes in the mercy
Of the Duke only, 'gainst all other Voice;
-- 582 --
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 may'st have leave to hang thy self:
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 shalt see the difference 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 render him, Anthonio?
Gra.
A Halter gratis, nothing else, for God's sake.
Ant.
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.
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.
-- 583 --
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,
To bring thee to the Gallows, not to the Font. [Exit Shy.
Duke.
Sir, I entreat you with me home to Dinner.
Por.
I humbly do desire your Grace of Pardon;
I must away this Night toward Padua,
And it is meet I presently set forth.
Duke.
I am sorry that your leisure serves you not.
Anthonio, gratifie 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 satisfied,
And I delivering you, am satisfied,
And therein do account my self 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 as 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 them for your sake,
And for your Love I'll take this Ring from you.
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 my self 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 on the value:
The dearest Ring in Venice will I give you,
-- 584 --
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 given 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 this Ring,
She wou'd not hold out Enmity for ever
For giving it to me. Well, Peace be with you. [Exit.
Anth.
My Lord Bassanio, let him have the Ring.
Let his Deservings, and my Love withal,
Be valued against your Wife's Commandment.
Bass.
Go, Gratiano, run and overtake him,
Give him the Ring, and bring him, if thou canst,
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.Enter Portia and Nerissa.
Por.
Enquire the Jew's House out, give him this Deed,
And let him sign it; we'll away to Night,
And be a day before our Husbands home:
This Deed will be well welcome to Lorenzo. Enter Gratiano.
Gra.
Fair Sir, you are well o'erta'en:
My Lord Bassanio, upon more advice,
Hath sent you here this Ring, and doth intreat
Your Company at Dinner.
Por.
That cannot be.
His Ring do I accept most thankfully,
And so I pray you tell him: Furthermore,
I pray you shew my Youth old Shylock's House.
Gra.
That will I do.
Ner.
Sir, I would speak with you.
I'll see if I can get my Husband's Ring
Which I did make him swear to keep for ever.
-- 585 --
Por.
Thou may'st, I warrant. We shall have old swearing,
That they did give the Rings away to Men;
But we'll out-face them, and out-swear them too:
Away, make haste, thou know'st where I will tarry.
Ner.
Come, good Sir, will you shew me to this House? [Exeunt.ACT V.SCENE I.SCENE Belmont.Enter Lorenzo and Jessica.
Lor. The Moon shines bright. In such a Night as this,
When the sweet Wind did gently kiss the Trees,
And they did make no noise; in such a Night,
Troylus methinks mounted the Troyan Wall,
And sigh'd his Soul toward the Grecian Tents,
Where Cressed lay that Night.
Jes.
In such a Night,
Did Thisby fearfully o'er-trip the Dew,
And saw the Lion's Shadow e'er himself,
And ran dismay'd away.
Lor.
In such a Night,
Stood Dido with a Willow in her Hand
Upon the wide Sea-banks, and waft her Love
To come again to Carthage.
Jes.
In such a Night,
Medea gather'd the Inchanted Herbs
That did renew old Æson.
Lor.
In such a Night,
Did Jessica steal from the wealthy Jew,
And with an unthrift Love did run from Venice,
As far as Belmont.
Jes.
In such a Night
Did young Lorenzo swear he lov'd her well,
Stealing her Soul with many Vows of Faith,
And ne'er a true one.
Lor.
In such a Night,
Did pretty Jessica (like a little Shrew)
Slander her Love, and he forgave it her.
-- 586 --
Jes.
I would out-night you, did no Body come:
But hark, I hear the footing of a Man. Enter Messenger.
Lor.
Who comes so fast, in silence of the Night?
Mes.
A Friend.
Lor.
A Friend! what Friend? Your name, I pray you,
Friend?
Mes. Stephano is my Name, and I bring word
My Mistress will before the break of Day
Be here at Belmont: She doth stray about
By holy Crosses, where she kneels and prays
For happy Wedlock Hours.
Lor.
Who comes with her?
Mes.
None but a holy Hermit and her Maid.
I pray you is my Master yet return'd?
Lor.
He is not, nor have we yet heard from him;
But go we in I pray thee, Jessica,
And ceremoniously let us prepare
Some Welcome for the Mistress of the House. Enter Launcelot.
Laun.
Sola, sola; wo ha, ho, sola, sola.
Lor.
Who calls?
Laun.
Sola, did you see Mr. Lorenzo and Mrs Lorenzo?
Sola, sola.
Lor.
Leave hollowing, Man: Here.
Laun.
Sola, where? where?
Lor.
Here.
Laun.
Tell him, there's a Post come from my Master,
with his Horn full of good News; my Master will be here
e'er Morning.
Lor.
Sweet Love, let's in, and there expect their coming.
And yet no matter: Why should we go in?
My Friend Stephano, signifie, I pray you,
Within the House, your Mistress is at hand,
And bring your Musick forth into the Air.
How sweet the Moon-light sleeps upon this Bank;
Here will we sit, and let the sounds of Musick
Creep in our Ears; soft Stilness, and the Night
Become the touches of sweet Harmony.
Sit, Jessica, look how the Floor of Heav'n
Is thick inlay'd with Patterns of bright Gold;
-- 587 --
There's not the smallest Orb which thou behold'st,
But in his Motion like an Angel sings,
Still quiring to the young-ey'd Cherubims;
Such Harmony is in immortal Souls;
But whilst this muddy Vesture of Decay
Doth grosly close us in it, we cannot hear it.
Come hoe, and wake Diana with a Hymn,
With sweetest Touches pierce your Mistress Ear,
And draw her Home with Musick.
Jes.
I am never merry when I hear sweet Musick. Musick.
Lor.
The Reason is, your Spirits are attentive;
For do but note a wild and wanton Herd,
Or Race of youthful and unhandled Colts,
Fetching mad bounds, bellowing and neighing loud,
Which is the hot Condition of their Blood;
If they but hear perchance a Trumpet sound,
Or any Air of Musick touch their Ears,
You shall perceive them make a mutual stand;
Their savage Eyes turn'd to a modest Gaze
By the sweet Power of Musick. Therefore the Poet
Did fain that Orpheus drew Trees, Stones, and Floods,
Since naught so stockish, hard, and full of rage,
But Musick for the time doth change his Nature:
The Man that hath no Musick in himself,
Nor is not mov'd with Concord of sweet Sounds,
Is fit for Treasons, Stratagems, and Spoils;
The Motions of his Spirit are dull as Night,
And his Affections dark as Erebus:
Let no such Man be trusted. Mark the Musick. Enter Portia and Nerissa.
Por.
That Light we see is burning in my Hall:
How far that little Candle throws his Beams;
So shines a good Deed in a naughty World.
Ner.
When the Moon shone we did not see the Candle.
Por.
So doth the greater Glory dim the less;
A Substitute shines brightly as a King
Until a King be by; and then his State
Empties it self, as doth an inland Brook
Into the Main of Waters. Musick, hark! [Musick.
-- 588 --
Ner.
It is the Musick, Madam, of your House.
Por.
Nothing is good, I see, without Respect:
Methinks it sounds much sweeter than by Day.
Ner.
Silence bestows that Virtue on it, Madam.
Por.
The Crow doth sing as sweetly as the Lark,
When neither is attended; and I think
The Nightingale, if she should sing by Day,
When every Goose is cackling, would be thought
No better a Musician than the Wren.
How many things by Season season'd are
To their right Praise and true Perfection?
Peace, how the Moon sleeps with Endimion,
And would not be awak'd! Musick ceases.
Lor.
That is the Voice,
Or I am much deceiv'd, of Portia.
Por.
He knows me as the blind Man knows the Cuckow,
by the bad Voice.
Lor.
Dear Lady, welcome Home.
Por.
We have been praying for our Husband's welfare,
Which speed, we hope, the better for our Words.
Are they return'd?
Lor.
Madam, they are not yet;
But there is come a Messenger before,
To signifie their coming.
Por.
Go in, Nerissa,
Give Order to my Servants, that they take
No note at all of our being absent hence,
Nor you Lorenzo, Jessica nor you. A Tucket sounds.
Lor.
Your Husband is at hand, I hear a Trumpet;
We are no Tell-tales, Madam, fear you not.
Por.
This Night methinks is but the Day-light sick;
It looks a little paler; 'tis a Day,
Such as the Day is when the Sun is hid. Enter Bassanio, Anthonio, Gratiano, and their Followers.
Bass.
We should hold Day with the Antipodes,
If you would walk in Absence of the Sun.
Por.
Let me give Light, but let me not be light;
For a light Wife doth make a heavy Husband,
-- 589 --
And never be Bassanio so from me;
But God sort all: You are welcome Home, my Lord.
Bass.
I thank you, Madam, give welcome to my Friend;
This is the Man, this is Anthonio,
To whom I am so infinitely bound.
Por.
You should in all Sense be much bound to him;
For, as I hear, he was much bound for you.
Ant.
No more than I am well acquitted of.
Por.
Sir, you are very welcome to our House;
It must appear in other ways than Words;
Therefore I scant this breathing Courtesie.
Gra.
By yonder Moon I swear you do me wrong;
In Faith I gave it to the Judge's Clerk:
[To Nerissa.
Would he were gelt that had it for my part,
Since you do take it, Love, so much at Heart.
Por.
A Quarrel, hoe, already; what's the Matter?
Gra.
About a Hoop of Gold, a paltry Ring
That she did give me, whose Poesie was
For all the World like Cutler's Poetry
Upon a Knife; Love me, and leave me not.
Ner.
What talk you of the Poesie or the Value?
You swore to me when I did give it you,
That you would wear it 'till the Hour of Death,
And that it should lye with you in your Grave;
Tho' not for me, yet for your vehement Oaths,
You should have been respective, and have kept it.
Gave it a Judge's Clerk! but well I know
The Clerk will ne'er wear Hair on's Face that had it.
Gra.
He will, and if he live to be a Man.
Ner.
If! if a Woman live to be a Man.
Gra.
Now by this Hand I gave it to a Youth,
A kind of Boy, a little scrubbed Boy,
No higher than thy self, the Judge's Clerk,
A prating Boy that begg'd it as a Fee:
I could not for my Heart deny it him.
Por.
You were to blame, I must be plain with you,
To part so slightly with your Wife's first Gift,
A thing stuck on with Oaths upon your Finger,
And so riveted with Faith unto your Flesh.
I gave my Love a Ring, and made him swear
-- 590 --
Never to part with it; and here he stands,
I dare be sworn to him, he would not leave it,
Nor pluck it from his Finger for the Wealth
That the World masters. Now in Faith, Gratiano,
You give your Wife too unkind a Cause of Grief;
And 'twere to me I should be mad at it.
Bass.
Why I were best to cut my left Hand off,
And swear I lost the Ring defending it.
Gra.
My Lord Bassanio gave his Ring away
Unto the Judge that begg'd it, and indeed
Deserv'd it too; and then the Boy, his Clerk,
That took some Pains in Writing, be begg'd mine,
And neither Man nor Master would take ought
But the two Rings.
Por.
What Ring gave you my, my Lord?
Not that, I hope, which you receiv'd of me.
Bass.
If I could add a Lie unto a Fault,
I would deny it; but you see my Finger
Hath not the Ring upon it, it is gone.
Por.
And even so void is your false Heart of Truth.
By Heaven, I will ne'er come in your Bed
Until I see the Ring.
Ner.
Nor I in yours, 'till I again see mine.
Bass.
Sweet Portia,
If you did know to whom I gave the Ring,
If you did know for whom I gave the Ring,
And would conceive for what I gave the Ring,
And how unwillingly I left the Ring,
When nought would be accepted but the Ring,
You would abate the Strength of your Displeasure.
Por.
If you had known the Virtue of the Ring,
Or half her Worthiness that gave the Ring,
Or your own Honour to contain the Ring,
You would not then have parted with the Ring.
What Man is there so much unreasonable,
If you had pleas'd to have defended it
With any Terms of Zeal, wanted the Modesty
To urge the thing held as a Ceremony?
Nerissa teaches me what to believe;
I'll die for't, but some Woman had the Ring.
-- 591 --
Bass.
No, by mine Honour, Madam, by my Soul,
No Woman had it, but a civil Doctor,
Which did refuse three thousand Ducats of me,
And begg'd the Ring; the which I did deny him,
And suffer'd him to go displeas'd away;
Even he that had held up the very Life
Of my dear Friend. What should I say, sweet Lady?
I was inforc'd to send it after him;
I was beset with Shame and Courtesie;
My Honour would not let Ingratitude
So much besmear it. Pardon me, good Lady,
And by these blessed Candles of the Night,
Had you been there, I think you would have begg'd
The Ring of me, to give the worthy Doctor.
Por.
Let not that Doctor e'er come near my House,
Since he hath got the Jewel that I lov'd,
And that which you did swear to keep for me:
I will become as liberal as you,
I'll not deny him any thing I have,
No, not my Body, nor my Husband's Bed;
Know him I shall, I am well sure of it.
Lye not a Night from Home; watch me like Argos:
If you do not, if I be left alone,
Now by mine Honour, which is yet mine own,
I'll have the Doctor for my Bedfellow.
Ner.
And I his Clerk; therefore be well advis'd
How you do leave me to mine own Protection.
Gra.
Well, do you so; let me not take him then;
For if I do, I'll mar the young Clerk's Pen.
Ant.
I am th' unhappy Subject of these Quarrels.
Por.
Sir, grieve not you,
You are welcome notwithstanding.
Bass. Portia, forgive me this enforced Wrong,
And in the hearing of these many Friends,
I swear to thee, even by thine own fair Eyes,
Wherein I see my self—
Por.
Mark you but that!
In both mine Eyes he doubly sees himself,
In each Eye one; swear by your double self,
And there's an Oath of Credit!
-- 592 --
Bass.
Nay, but hear me:
Pardon this Fault, and by my Soul I swear,
I never more will break an Oath with thee.
Ant.
I once did lend my Body for thy Wealth,
[To Bass.
Which but for him that had your Husband's Ring
[To Por.
Had quite miscarry'd. I dare be bound again,
My Soul upon the Forfeit, that your Lord
Will never more break Faith advisedly.
Por.
Then you shall be his Surety; give him this,
And bid him keep it better than the other.
Ant.
Here Lord Bassanio, swear to keep this Ring.
Bass.
By Heav'n it is the same I gave the Doctor.
Por.
I had it of him: Pardon me, Bassanio;
For by this Ring the Doctor lay with me.
Ner.
And pardon me, my gentle Gratiano,
For that same scrubbed Boy, the Doctor's Clerk,
In lieu of this, last Night did lye with me.
Gra.
Why, this is like the mending of High-ways
In Summer, where the Ways are fair enough:
What, are we Cuckolds e'er we have deserv'd it?
Por.
Speak not so grosly; you are all amaz'd;
Here is a Letter, read it at your Leisure;
It comes from Padua from Bellario:
There you shall find that Portia was the Doctor,
Nerissa there her Clerk. Lorenzo here,
Shall witness I set forth as soon as you,
And but even now return'd: I have not yet
Entred my House. Anthonio, you are welcome,
And I have better News in store for you
Than you expect; unseal this Letter soon,
There you shall find three of your Argosies
Are richly come to Harbour suddenly.
You shall not know by what strange Accident
I chanced on this Letter.
Ant.
I am dumb.
Bass.
Were you the Doctor, and I knew you not?
Gra.
Were you the Clerk that is to make me Cuckold?
Ner.
Ay, but the Clerk that never means to do it,
Unless he live until he be a Man.
Bass.
Sweet Doctor, you shall be my Bedfellow;
When I am absent, then lye with my Wife.
-- 593 --
Ant.
Sweet Lady, you have given me Life and Living;
For here I read for certain, that my Ships
Are safely come to Rhodes.
Por.
How now, Lorenzo?
My Clerk hath some good Comforts too for you.
Ner.
Ay, and I'll give them him without a Fee.
There do I give to you and Jessica,
From the rich Jew, a special Deed of Gift,
After his Death, of all he dies possess'd of.
Lor.
Fair Ladies, you drop Manna in the way
Of starved People.
Por.
It is almost Morning,
And yet I am sure you are not satisfy'd
Of these Events at full. Let us go in,
And charge us there on Interrogatories,
And we will answer all things faithfully.
Gra.
Let it be so: the first Interrogatory
That my Nerissa shall be sworn on, is,
Whether 'till the next Night she had rather stay,
Or go to Bed, now being two Hours to Day.
But were the Day come, I should wish it dark,
'Till I were couching with the Doctor's Clerk.
Well, while I live, I'll fear no other thing
So sore, as keeping safe Nerissa's Ring. [Exeunt.
