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4056 lines
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Plaintext
The Merchant of Venice
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by William Shakespeare
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Edited by Barbara A. Mowat and Paul Werstine
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with Michael Poston and Rebecca Niles
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Folger Shakespeare Library
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https://shakespeare.folger.edu/shakespeares-works/the-merchant-of-venice/
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Created on Jul 31, 2015, from FDT version 0.9.2
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Characters in the Play
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======================
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PORTIA, an heiress of Belmont
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NERISSA, her waiting-gentlewoman
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Servants to Portia:
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BALTHAZAR
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STEPHANO
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Suitors to Portia:
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Prince of MOROCCO
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Prince of ARRAGON
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ANTONIO, a merchant of Venice
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BASSANIO, a Venetian gentleman, suitor to Portia
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Companions of Antonio and Bassanio:
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SOLANIO
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SALARINO
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GRATIANO
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LORENZO
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LEONARDO, servant to Bassanio
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SHYLOCK, a Jewish moneylender in Venice
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JESSICA, his daughter
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TUBAL, another Jewish moneylender
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LANCELET GOBBO, servant to Shylock and later to Bassanio
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OLD GOBBO, Lancelet's father
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SALERIO, a messenger from Venice
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Jailer
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Duke of Venice
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Magnificoes of Venice
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Servants
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Attendants and followers
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Messenger
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Musicians
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ACT 1
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=====
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Scene 1
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=======
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[Enter Antonio, Salarino, and Solanio.]
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ANTONIO
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In sooth I know not why I am so sad.
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It wearies me, you say it wearies you.
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But how I caught it, found it, or came by it,
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What stuff 'tis made of, whereof it is born,
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I am to learn.
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And such a want-wit sadness makes of me
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That I have much ado to know myself.
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SALARINO
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Your mind is tossing on the ocean,
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There where your argosies with portly sail
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(Like signiors and rich burghers on the flood,
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Or, as it were, the pageants of the sea)
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Do overpeer the petty traffickers
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That curtsy to them, do them reverence,
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As they fly by them with their woven wings.
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SOLANIO
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Believe me, sir, had I such venture forth,
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The better part of my affections would
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Be with my hopes abroad. I should be still
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Plucking the grass to know where sits the wind,
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Piring in maps for ports and piers and roads;
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And every object that might make me fear
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Misfortune to my ventures, out of doubt
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Would make me sad.
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SALARINO My wind cooling my broth
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Would blow me to an ague when I thought
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What harm a wind too great might do at sea.
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I should not see the sandy hourglass run
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But I should think of shallows and of flats,
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And see my wealthy Andrew docked in sand,
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Vailing her high top lower than her ribs
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To kiss her burial. Should I go to church
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And see the holy edifice of stone
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And not bethink me straight of dangerous rocks,
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Which, touching but my gentle vessel's side,
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Would scatter all her spices on the stream,
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Enrobe the roaring waters with my silks,
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And, in a word, but even now worth this
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And now worth nothing? Shall I have the thought
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To think on this, and shall I lack the thought
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That such a thing bechanced would make me sad?
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But tell not me: I know Antonio
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Is sad to think upon his merchandise.
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ANTONIO
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Believe me, no. I thank my fortune for it,
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My ventures are not in one bottom trusted,
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Nor to one place; nor is my whole estate
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Upon the fortune of this present year:
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Therefore my merchandise makes me not sad.
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SOLANIO
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Why then you are in love.
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ANTONIO Fie, fie!
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SOLANIO
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Not in love neither? Then let us say you are sad
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Because you are not merry; and 'twere as easy
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For you to laugh and leap, and say you are merry
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Because you are not sad. Now, by two-headed
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Janus,
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Nature hath framed strange fellows in her time:
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Some that will evermore peep through their eyes
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And laugh like parrots at a bagpiper,
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And other of such vinegar aspect
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That they'll not show their teeth in way of smile
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Though Nestor swear the jest be laughable.
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[Enter Bassanio, Lorenzo, and Gratiano.]
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Here comes Bassanio, your most noble kinsman,
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Gratiano, and Lorenzo. Fare you well.
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We leave you now with better company.
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SALARINO
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I would have stayed till I had made you merry,
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If worthier friends had not prevented me.
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ANTONIO
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Your worth is very dear in my regard.
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I take it your own business calls on you,
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And you embrace th' occasion to depart.
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SALARINO
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Good morrow, my good lords.
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BASSANIO
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Good signiors both, when shall we laugh? Say,
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when?
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You grow exceeding strange. Must it be so?
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SALARINO
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We'll make our leisures to attend on yours.
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[Salarino and Solanio exit.]
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LORENZO
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My Lord Bassanio, since you have found Antonio,
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We two will leave you. But at dinner time
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I pray you have in mind where we must meet.
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BASSANIO
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I will not fail you.
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GRATIANO
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You look not well, Signior Antonio.
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You have too much respect upon the world.
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They lose it that do buy it with much care.
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Believe me, you are marvelously changed.
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ANTONIO
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I hold the world but as the world, Gratiano,
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A stage where every man must play a part,
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And mine a sad one.
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GRATIANO Let me play the fool.
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With mirth and laughter let old wrinkles come,
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And let my liver rather heat with wine
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Than my heart cool with mortifying groans.
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Why should a man whose blood is warm within
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Sit like his grandsire cut in alabaster?
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Sleep when he wakes? And creep into the jaundice
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By being peevish? I tell thee what, Antonio
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(I love thee, and 'tis my love that speaks):
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There are a sort of men whose visages
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Do cream and mantle like a standing pond
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And do a willful stillness entertain
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With purpose to be dressed in an opinion
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Of wisdom, gravity, profound conceit,
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As who should say "I am Sir Oracle,
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And when I ope my lips, let no dog bark."
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O my Antonio, I do know of these
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That therefore only are reputed wise
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For saying nothing, when, I am very sure,
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If they should speak, would almost damn those ears
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Which, hearing them, would call their brothers
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fools.
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I'll tell thee more of this another time.
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But fish not with this melancholy bait
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For this fool gudgeon, this opinion.--
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Come, good Lorenzo.--Fare you well a while.
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I'll end my exhortation after dinner.
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LORENZO
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Well, we will leave you then till dinner time.
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I must be one of these same dumb wise men,
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For Gratiano never lets me speak.
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GRATIANO
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Well, keep me company but two years more,
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Thou shalt not know the sound of thine own
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tongue.
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ANTONIO
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Fare you well. I'll grow a talker for this gear.
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GRATIANO
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Thanks, i' faith, for silence is only commendable
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In a neat's tongue dried and a maid not vendible.
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[Gratiano and Lorenzo exit.]
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ANTONIO Is that anything now?
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BASSANIO Gratiano speaks an infinite deal of nothing,
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more than any man in all Venice. His reasons are as
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two grains of wheat hid in two bushels of chaff: you
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shall seek all day ere you find them, and when you
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have them, they are not worth the search.
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ANTONIO
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Well, tell me now what lady is the same
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To whom you swore a secret pilgrimage,
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That you today promised to tell me of?
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BASSANIO
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'Tis not unknown to you, Antonio,
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How much I have disabled mine estate
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By something showing a more swelling port
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Than my faint means would grant continuance.
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Nor do I now make moan to be abridged
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From such a noble rate. But my chief care
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Is to come fairly off from the great debts
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Wherein my time, something too prodigal,
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Hath left me gaged. To you, Antonio,
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I owe the most in money and in love,
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And from your love I have a warranty
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To unburden all my plots and purposes
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How to get clear of all the debts I owe.
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ANTONIO
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I pray you, good Bassanio, let me know it;
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And if it stand, as you yourself still do,
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Within the eye of honor, be assured
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My purse, my person, my extremest means
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Lie all unlocked to your occasions.
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BASSANIO
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In my school days, when I had lost one shaft,
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I shot his fellow of the selfsame flight
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The selfsame way with more advised watch
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To find the other forth; and by adventuring both
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I oft found both. I urge this childhood proof
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Because what follows is pure innocence.
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I owe you much, and, like a willful youth,
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That which I owe is lost. But if you please
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To shoot another arrow that self way
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Which you did shoot the first, I do not doubt,
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As I will watch the aim, or to find both
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Or bring your latter hazard back again,
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And thankfully rest debtor for the first.
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ANTONIO
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You know me well, and herein spend but time
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To wind about my love with circumstance;
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And out of doubt you do me now more wrong
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In making question of my uttermost
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Than if you had made waste of all I have.
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Then do but say to me what I should do
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That in your knowledge may by me be done,
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And I am prest unto it. Therefore speak.
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BASSANIO
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In Belmont is a lady richly left,
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And she is fair, and, fairer than that word,
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Of wondrous virtues. Sometimes from her eyes
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I did receive fair speechless messages.
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Her name is Portia, nothing undervalued
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To Cato's daughter, Brutus' Portia.
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Nor is the wide world ignorant of her worth,
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For the four winds blow in from every coast
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Renowned suitors, and her sunny locks
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Hang on her temples like a golden fleece,
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Which makes her seat of Belmont Colchos' strond,
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And many Jasons come in quest of her.
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O my Antonio, had I but the means
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To hold a rival place with one of them,
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I have a mind presages me such thrift
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That I should questionless be fortunate!
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ANTONIO
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Thou know'st that all my fortunes are at sea;
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Neither have I money nor commodity
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To raise a present sum. Therefore go forth:
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Try what my credit can in Venice do;
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That shall be racked even to the uttermost
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To furnish thee to Belmont to fair Portia.
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Go presently inquire, and so will I,
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Where money is, and I no question make
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To have it of my trust, or for my sake.
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[They exit.]
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Scene 2
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=======
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[Enter Portia with her waiting woman Nerissa.]
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PORTIA By my troth, Nerissa, my little body is aweary
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of this great world.
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NERISSA You would be, sweet madam, if your miseries
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were in the same abundance as your good fortunes
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are. And yet, for aught I see, they are as sick that
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surfeit with too much as they that starve with
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nothing. It is no mean happiness, therefore, to be
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seated in the mean. Superfluity comes sooner by
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white hairs, but competency lives longer.
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PORTIA Good sentences, and well pronounced.
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NERISSA They would be better if well followed.
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PORTIA If to do were as easy as to know what were
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good to do, chapels had been churches, and poor
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men's cottages princes' palaces. It is a good divine
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that follows his own instructions. I can easier teach
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twenty what were good to be done than to be one of
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the twenty to follow mine own teaching. The brain
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may devise laws for the blood, but a hot temper
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leaps o'er a cold decree: such a hare is madness the
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youth, to skip o'er the meshes of good counsel the
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cripple. But this reasoning is not in the fashion to
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choose me a husband. O, me, the word "choose"! I
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may neither choose who I would nor refuse who I
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dislike. So is the will of a living daughter curbed by
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the will of a dead father. Is it not hard, Nerissa, that
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I cannot choose one, nor refuse none?
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NERISSA Your father was ever virtuous, and holy men
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at their death have good inspirations. Therefore the
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lottery that he hath devised in these three chests of
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gold, silver, and lead, whereof who chooses his
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meaning chooses you, will no doubt never be
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chosen by any rightly but one who you shall rightly
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love. But what warmth is there in your affection
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towards any of these princely suitors that are already
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come?
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PORTIA I pray thee, overname them, and as thou
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namest them, I will describe them, and according
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to my description level at my affection.
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NERISSA First, there is the Neapolitan prince.
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PORTIA Ay, that's a colt indeed, for he doth nothing but
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talk of his horse, and he makes it a great appropriation
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to his own good parts that he can shoe him
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himself. I am much afeard my lady his mother
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played false with a smith.
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NERISSA Then is there the County Palatine.
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PORTIA He doth nothing but frown, as who should say
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"An you will not have me, choose." He hears
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merry tales and smiles not. I fear he will prove the
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weeping philosopher when he grows old, being so
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full of unmannerly sadness in his youth. I had
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rather be married to a death's-head with a bone in
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his mouth than to either of these. God defend me
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from these two!
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NERISSA How say you by the French lord, Monsieur Le
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Bon?
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PORTIA God made him, and therefore let him pass for
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a man. In truth, I know it is a sin to be a mocker,
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but he!--why, he hath a horse better than the
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Neapolitan's, a better bad habit of frowning than
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the Count Palatine. He is every man in no man. If a
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throstle sing, he falls straight a-cap'ring. He will
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fence with his own shadow. If I should marry him, I
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should marry twenty husbands! If he would despise
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me, I would forgive him, for if he love me to
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madness, I shall never requite him.
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NERISSA What say you then to Falconbridge, the young
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baron of England?
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PORTIA You know I say nothing to him, for he understands
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not me, nor I him. He hath neither Latin,
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French, nor Italian; and you will come into the
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court and swear that I have a poor pennyworth in
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the English. He is a proper man's picture, but alas,
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who can converse with a dumb show? How oddly
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he is suited! I think he bought his doublet in Italy,
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his round hose in France, his bonnet in Germany,
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and his behavior everywhere.
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NERISSA What think you of the Scottish lord, his
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neighbor?
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PORTIA That he hath a neighborly charity in him, for
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he borrowed a box of the ear of the Englishman,
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and swore he would pay him again when he was
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able. I think the Frenchman became his surety and
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sealed under for another.
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NERISSA How like you the young German, the Duke of
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Saxony's nephew?
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PORTIA Very vilely in the morning, when he is sober,
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and most vilely in the afternoon, when he is drunk.
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When he is best he is a little worse than a man, and
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when he is worst he is little better than a beast. An
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the worst fall that ever fell, I hope I shall make shift
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to go without him.
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NERISSA If he should offer to choose, and choose the
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right casket, you should refuse to perform your
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father's will if you should refuse to accept him.
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PORTIA Therefore, for fear of the worst, I pray thee set
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a deep glass of Rhenish wine on the contrary
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casket, for if the devil be within and that temptation
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without, I know he will choose it. I will do
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anything, Nerissa, ere I will be married to a sponge.
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NERISSA You need not fear, lady, the having any of
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these lords. They have acquainted me with their
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determinations, which is indeed to return to their
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home and to trouble you with no more suit, unless
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you may be won by some other sort than your
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father's imposition depending on the caskets.
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PORTIA If I live to be as old as Sibylla, I will die as
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chaste as Diana unless I be obtained by the manner
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of my father's will. I am glad this parcel of wooers
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are so reasonable, for there is not one among them
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but I dote on his very absence. And I pray God
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grant them a fair departure!
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NERISSA Do you not remember, lady, in your father's
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time, a Venetian, a scholar and a soldier, that came
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hither in company of the Marquess of Montferrat?
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PORTIA Yes, yes, it was Bassanio--as I think so was he
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called.
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NERISSA True, madam. He, of all the men that ever my
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foolish eyes looked upon, was the best deserving a
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fair lady.
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PORTIA I remember him well, and I remember him
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worthy of thy praise.
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[Enter a Servingman.]
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How now, what news?
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SERVINGMAN The four strangers seek for you, madam,
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to take their leave. And there is a forerunner come
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from a fifth, the Prince of Morocco, who brings
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word the Prince his master will be here tonight.
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PORTIA If I could bid the fifth welcome with so good
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heart as I can bid the other four farewell, I should
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be glad of his approach. If he have the condition of
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a saint and the complexion of a devil, I had rather
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he should shrive me than wive me.
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Come, Nerissa. [To Servingman.] Sirrah, go before.--
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Whiles we shut the gate upon one wooer, another
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knocks at the door.
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[They exit.]
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Scene 3
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=======
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[Enter Bassanio with Shylock the Jew.]
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SHYLOCK Three thousand ducats, well.
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BASSANIO Ay, sir, for three months.
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SHYLOCK For three months, well.
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BASSANIO For the which, as I told you, Antonio shall
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be bound.
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SHYLOCK Antonio shall become bound, well.
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BASSANIO May you stead me? Will you pleasure me?
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Shall I know your answer?
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SHYLOCK Three thousand ducats for three months,
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and Antonio bound.
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BASSANIO Your answer to that?
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SHYLOCK Antonio is a good man.
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BASSANIO Have you heard any imputation to the
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contrary?
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SHYLOCK Ho, no, no, no, no! My meaning in saying he
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is a good man is to have you understand me that he
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is sufficient. Yet his means are in supposition: he
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hath an argosy bound to Tripolis, another to the
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Indies. I understand, moreover, upon the Rialto,
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he hath a third at Mexico, a fourth for England, and
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other ventures he hath squandered abroad. But
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ships are but boards, sailors but men; there be land
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rats and water rats, water thieves and land
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thieves--I mean pirates--and then there is the
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peril of waters, winds, and rocks. The man is,
|
|
notwithstanding, sufficient. Three thousand ducats.
|
|
I think I may take his bond.
|
|
|
|
BASSANIO Be assured you may.
|
|
|
|
SHYLOCK I will be assured I may. And that I may be
|
|
assured, I will bethink me. May I speak with
|
|
Antonio?
|
|
|
|
BASSANIO If it please you to dine with us.
|
|
|
|
SHYLOCK Yes, to smell pork! To eat of the habitation
|
|
which your prophet the Nazarite conjured 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 Rialto?--Who is he comes
|
|
here?
|
|
|
|
[Enter Antonio.]
|
|
|
|
|
|
BASSANIO This is Signior Antonio.
|
|
|
|
SHYLOCK, [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 money 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 ancient 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-won thrift,
|
|
Which he calls "interest." Cursed be my tribe
|
|
If I forgive him!
|
|
|
|
BASSANIO Shylock, do you hear?
|
|
|
|
SHYLOCK
|
|
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?
|
|
Tubal, a wealthy Hebrew of my tribe,
|
|
Will furnish me. But soft, how many months
|
|
Do you desire? [To Antonio.] Rest you fair, good
|
|
signior!
|
|
Your Worship was the last man in our mouths.
|
|
|
|
ANTONIO
|
|
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. [To Bassanio.] Is he yet
|
|
possessed
|
|
How much you would?
|
|
|
|
SHYLOCK Ay, ay, three thousand
|
|
ducats.
|
|
|
|
ANTONIO And for three months.
|
|
|
|
SHYLOCK
|
|
I had forgot--three months. [To Bassanio.]
|
|
You told me so.--
|
|
Well then, your bond. And let me see--but hear
|
|
you:
|
|
Methoughts you said you neither lend nor borrow
|
|
Upon advantage.
|
|
|
|
ANTONIO I do never use it.
|
|
|
|
SHYLOCK
|
|
When Jacob grazed his Uncle Laban's sheep--
|
|
This Jacob from our holy Abram was
|
|
(As his wise mother wrought in his behalf)
|
|
The third possessor; ay, he was the third--
|
|
|
|
ANTONIO
|
|
And what of him? Did he take interest?
|
|
|
|
SHYLOCK
|
|
No, not take interest, not, as you would say,
|
|
Directly "interest." Mark what Jacob did.
|
|
When Laban and himself were compromised
|
|
That all the eanlings which were streaked and pied
|
|
Should fall as Jacob's hire, the 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 skillful shepherd pilled 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 eaning time
|
|
Fall parti-colored 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.
|
|
|
|
ANTONIO
|
|
This was a venture, sir, that Jacob served for,
|
|
A thing not in his power to bring to pass,
|
|
But swayed and fashioned by the hand of heaven.
|
|
Was this inserted to make interest good?
|
|
Or is your gold and silver ewes and rams?
|
|
|
|
SHYLOCK
|
|
I cannot tell; I make it breed as fast.
|
|
But note me, signior--
|
|
|
|
ANTONIO, [aside to Bassanio]
|
|
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 goodly outside falsehood hath!
|
|
|
|
SHYLOCK
|
|
Three thousand ducats. 'Tis a good round sum.
|
|
Three months from twelve, then let me see, the
|
|
rate--
|
|
|
|
ANTONIO
|
|
Well, Shylock, shall we be beholding to you?
|
|
|
|
SHYLOCK
|
|
Signior Antonio, many a time and oft
|
|
In the Rialto you have rated me
|
|
About my moneys and my usances.
|
|
Still have I borne it with a patient shrug
|
|
(For suff'rance is the badge of all our tribe).
|
|
You call me misbeliever, cutthroat dog,
|
|
And spet 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 moneys"--you say so,
|
|
You, that did void your rheum upon my beard,
|
|
And foot me as you spurn a stranger cur
|
|
Over your threshold. Moneys is your suit.
|
|
What should I say to you? Should I not say
|
|
"Hath a dog money? Is it possible
|
|
A cur can lend three thousand ducats?" Or
|
|
Shall I bend low, and in a bondman's key,
|
|
With bated breath and whisp'ring humbleness,
|
|
Say this: "Fair sir, you spet on me on Wednesday
|
|
last;
|
|
You spurned me such a day; another time
|
|
You called me 'dog'; and for these courtesies
|
|
I'll lend you thus much moneys"?
|
|
|
|
ANTONIO
|
|
I am as like to call thee so again,
|
|
To spet on thee again, to spurn thee, too.
|
|
If thou wilt lend this money, lend it not
|
|
As to thy friends, for when did friendship take
|
|
A breed for barren metal of his friend?
|
|
But lend it rather to thine enemy,
|
|
Who, if he break, thou mayst with better face
|
|
Exact the penalty.
|
|
|
|
SHYLOCK Why, look you how you storm!
|
|
I would be friends with you and have your love,
|
|
Forget the shames that you have stained me with,
|
|
Supply your present wants, and take no doit
|
|
Of usance for my moneys, and you'll not hear me!
|
|
This is kind I offer.
|
|
|
|
BASSANIO This were kindness!
|
|
|
|
SHYLOCK This kindness will I show.
|
|
Go with me to a notary, seal me there
|
|
Your single bond; and in a merry sport,
|
|
If you repay me not on such a day,
|
|
In such a place, such sum or sums as are
|
|
Expressed 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 pleaseth me.
|
|
|
|
ANTONIO
|
|
Content, in faith. I'll seal to such a bond,
|
|
And say there is much kindness in the Jew.
|
|
|
|
BASSANIO
|
|
You shall not seal to such a bond for me!
|
|
I'll rather dwell in my necessity.
|
|
|
|
ANTONIO
|
|
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.
|
|
|
|
SHYLOCK
|
|
O father Abram, what these Christians are,
|
|
Whose own hard dealings 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 favor I extend this friendship.
|
|
If he will take it, so. If not, adieu;
|
|
And for my love I pray you wrong me not.
|
|
|
|
ANTONIO
|
|
Yes, Shylock, I will seal unto this bond.
|
|
|
|
SHYLOCK
|
|
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.
|
|
|
|
ANTONIO Hie thee, gentle Jew.
|
|
[Shylock exits.]
|
|
The Hebrew will turn Christian; he grows kind.
|
|
|
|
BASSANIO
|
|
I like not fair terms and a villain's mind.
|
|
|
|
ANTONIO
|
|
Come on, in this there can be no dismay;
|
|
My ships come home a month before the day.
|
|
[They exit.]
|
|
|
|
|
|
ACT 2
|
|
=====
|
|
|
|
Scene 1
|
|
=======
|
|
[Enter the Prince of Morocco, a tawny Moor all in
|
|
white, and three or four followers accordingly, with
|
|
Portia, Nerissa, and their train.]
|
|
|
|
|
|
MOROCCO
|
|
Mislike me not for my complexion,
|
|
The shadowed livery of the burnished sun,
|
|
To whom I am a neighbor and near bred.
|
|
Bring me the fairest creature northward born,
|
|
Where Phoebus' fire scarce thaws the icicles,
|
|
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 feared the valiant; by my love I swear
|
|
The best regarded virgins of our clime
|
|
Have loved it too. I would not change this hue
|
|
Except to steal your thoughts, my gentle queen.
|
|
|
|
PORTIA
|
|
In terms of choice I am not solely led
|
|
By nice direction of a maiden's eyes;
|
|
Besides, the lott'ry of my destiny
|
|
Bars me the right of voluntary choosing.
|
|
But if my father had not scanted me
|
|
And hedged me by his wit to yield myself
|
|
His wife who wins me by that means I told you,
|
|
Yourself, renowned prince, then stood as fair
|
|
As any comer I have looked on yet
|
|
For my affection.
|
|
|
|
MOROCCO 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'erstare the sternest eyes that look,
|
|
Outbrave 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,
|
|
To win thee, 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 page,
|
|
And so may I, blind Fortune leading me,
|
|
Miss that which one unworthier may attain,
|
|
And die with grieving.
|
|
|
|
PORTIA You must take your chance
|
|
And either not attempt to choose at all
|
|
Or swear before you choose, if you choose wrong
|
|
Never to speak to lady afterward
|
|
In way of marriage. Therefore be advised.
|
|
|
|
MOROCCO
|
|
Nor will not. Come, bring me unto my chance.
|
|
|
|
PORTIA
|
|
First, forward to the temple. After dinner
|
|
Your hazard shall be made.
|
|
|
|
MOROCCO Good fortune then,
|
|
To make me blest--or cursed'st among men!
|
|
[They exit.]
|
|
|
|
Scene 2
|
|
=======
|
|
[Enter Lancelet Gobbo the Clown, alone.]
|
|
|
|
|
|
LANCELET Certainly my conscience will serve me to
|
|
run from this Jew my master. The fiend is at mine
|
|
elbow and tempts me, saying to me "Gobbo,
|
|
Lancelet Gobbo, good Lancelet," or "good Gobbo,"
|
|
or "good Lancelet Gobbo, use your legs, take
|
|
the start, run away." My conscience says "No. Take
|
|
heed, honest Lancelet, take heed, honest Gobbo,"
|
|
or, as aforesaid, "honest Lancelet Gobbo, do not
|
|
run; scorn running with thy heels." Well, the most
|
|
courageous fiend bids me pack. "Fia!" says the
|
|
fiend. "Away!" says the fiend. "For the heavens,
|
|
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
|
|
Lancelet, being an honest man's son"--or rather,
|
|
an honest woman's son, for indeed my father did
|
|
something smack, something grow to--he had a
|
|
kind of taste--well, my conscience says "Lancelet,
|
|
budge not." "Budge," says the fiend. "Budge not,"
|
|
says my conscience. "Conscience," say I, "you
|
|
counsel well." "Fiend," say I, "you counsel well."
|
|
To be ruled by my conscience, 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 but 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.]
|
|
|
|
|
|
GOBBO Master young man, you, I pray you, which is
|
|
the way to Master Jew's?
|
|
|
|
LANCELET, [aside] O heavens, this is my true begotten
|
|
father, who being more than sandblind, high gravelblind,
|
|
knows me not. I will try confusions with him.
|
|
|
|
GOBBO Master young gentleman, I pray you, which is
|
|
the way to Master Jew's?
|
|
|
|
LANCELET Turn up on 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.
|
|
|
|
GOBBO Be God's sonties, 'twill be a hard way to hit.
|
|
Can you tell me whether one Lancelet, that dwells
|
|
with him, dwell with him or no?
|
|
|
|
LANCELET Talk you of young Master Lancelet? [Aside.]
|
|
Mark me now, now will I raise the waters.--Talk
|
|
you of young Master Lancelet?
|
|
|
|
GOBBO No master, sir, but a poor man's son. His
|
|
father, though I say 't, is an honest exceeding poor
|
|
man and, God be thanked, well to live.
|
|
|
|
LANCELET Well, let his father be what he will, we talk
|
|
of young Master Lancelet.
|
|
|
|
GOBBO Your Worship's friend, and Lancelet, sir.
|
|
|
|
LANCELET But I pray you, ergo, old man, ergo, I beseech
|
|
you, talk you of young Master Lancelet?
|
|
|
|
GOBBO Of Lancelet, an 't please your mastership.
|
|
|
|
LANCELET Ergo, Master Lancelet. Talk not of Master
|
|
Lancelet, father, 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.
|
|
|
|
GOBBO Marry, God forbid! The boy was the very staff
|
|
of my age, my very prop.
|
|
|
|
LANCELET, [aside] Do I look like a cudgel or a hovel-post,
|
|
a staff or a prop?--Do you know me, father?
|
|
|
|
GOBBO 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?
|
|
|
|
LANCELET Do you not know me, father?
|
|
|
|
GOBBO Alack, sir, I am sandblind. I know you not.
|
|
|
|
LANCELET 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. [He kneels.] 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
|
|
out.
|
|
|
|
GOBBO Pray you, sir, stand up! I am sure you are not
|
|
Lancelet my boy.
|
|
|
|
LANCELET Pray you, let's have no more fooling about
|
|
it, but give me your blessing. I am Lancelet, your
|
|
boy that was, your son that is, your child that shall
|
|
be.
|
|
|
|
GOBBO I cannot think you are my son.
|
|
|
|
LANCELET I know not what I shall think of that; but I
|
|
am Lancelet, the Jew's man, and I am sure Margery
|
|
your wife is my mother.
|
|
|
|
GOBBO Her name is Margery, indeed. I'll be sworn if
|
|
thou be Lancelet, thou art mine own flesh and
|
|
blood. Lord worshiped might He be, what a beard
|
|
hast thou got! Thou hast got more hair on thy chin
|
|
than Dobbin my fill-horse has on his tail.
|
|
|
|
LANCELET, [standing up] It should seem, then, that
|
|
Dobbin's tail grows backward. I am sure he had
|
|
more hair of his tail than I have of my face when I
|
|
last saw him.
|
|
|
|
GOBBO Lord, how art thou changed! How dost thou
|
|
and thy master agree? I have brought him a present.
|
|
How 'gree you now?
|
|
|
|
LANCELET 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
|
|
famished 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, who
|
|
indeed gives rare new liveries. If I serve not him, 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 Leonardo and a follower or two.]
|
|
|
|
|
|
BASSANIO, [to an Attendant] 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 delivered, put the
|
|
liveries to making, and desire Gratiano to come
|
|
anon to my lodging. [The Attendant exits.]
|
|
|
|
LANCELET To him, father.
|
|
|
|
GOBBO, [to Bassanio] God bless your Worship.
|
|
|
|
BASSANIO Gramercy. Wouldst thou aught with me?
|
|
|
|
GOBBO Here's my son, sir, a poor boy--
|
|
|
|
LANCELET Not a poor boy, sir, but the rich Jew's man,
|
|
that would, sir, as my father shall specify--
|
|
|
|
GOBBO He hath a great infection, sir, as one would say,
|
|
to serve--
|
|
|
|
LANCELET Indeed, the short and the long is, I serve the
|
|
Jew, and have a desire, as my father shall specify--
|
|
|
|
GOBBO His master and he (saving your Worship's
|
|
reverence) are scarce cater-cousins--
|
|
|
|
LANCELET 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 frutify unto
|
|
you--
|
|
|
|
GOBBO I have here a dish of doves that I would bestow
|
|
upon your Worship, and my suit is--
|
|
|
|
LANCELET In very brief, the suit is impertinent to
|
|
myself, as your Worship shall know by this honest
|
|
old man, and though I say it, though old man yet
|
|
poor man, my father--
|
|
|
|
BASSANIO One speak for both. What would you?
|
|
|
|
LANCELET Serve you, sir.
|
|
|
|
GOBBO That is the very defect of the matter, sir.
|
|
|
|
BASSANIO, [to Lancelet]
|
|
I know thee well. Thou hast obtained thy suit.
|
|
Shylock thy master spoke with me this day,
|
|
And hath preferred thee, if it be preferment
|
|
To leave a rich Jew's service, to become
|
|
The follower of so poor a gentleman.
|
|
|
|
LANCELET 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."
|
|
|
|
BASSANIO
|
|
Thou speak'st it well.--Go, father, with thy son.--
|
|
Take leave of thy old master, and inquire
|
|
My lodging out. [To an Attendant.] Give him a livery
|
|
More guarded than his fellows'. See it done.
|
|
[Attendant exits. Bassanio and Leonardo talk apart.]
|
|
|
|
LANCELET Father, in. I cannot get a service, no! I have
|
|
ne'er a tongue in my head! Well, [studying his palm]
|
|
if any man in Italy have a fairer table which doth
|
|
offer to swear upon a book--I shall have good
|
|
fortune, go to! 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
|
|
featherbed! Here are simple 'scapes. Well, if Fortune
|
|
be a woman, she's a good wench for this gear.
|
|
Father, come. I'll take my leave of the Jew in the
|
|
twinkling. [Lancelet and old Gobbo exit.]
|
|
|
|
BASSANIO
|
|
I pray thee, good Leonardo, think on this.
|
|
[Handing him a paper.]
|
|
These things being bought and orderly bestowed,
|
|
Return in haste, for I do feast tonight
|
|
My best esteemed acquaintance. Hie thee, go.
|
|
|
|
LEONARDO
|
|
My best endeavors shall be done herein.
|
|
|
|
[Enter Gratiano.]
|
|
|
|
|
|
GRATIANO, [to Leonardo] Where's your master?
|
|
|
|
LEONARDO Yonder, sir, he walks. [Leonardo exits.]
|
|
|
|
GRATIANO Signior Bassanio!
|
|
|
|
BASSANIO Gratiano!
|
|
|
|
GRATIANO I have suit to you.
|
|
|
|
BASSANIO You have obtained it.
|
|
|
|
GRATIANO You must not deny me. I must go with you
|
|
to Belmont.
|
|
|
|
BASSANIO
|
|
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 thou art not known--why, there they
|
|
show
|
|
Something too liberal. Pray thee take pain
|
|
To allay with some cold drops of modesty
|
|
Thy skipping spirit, lest through thy wild behavior
|
|
I be misconstered in the place I go to,
|
|
And lose my hopes.
|
|
|
|
GRATIANO 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 pocket, 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.
|
|
|
|
BASSANIO Well, we shall see your bearing.
|
|
|
|
GRATIANO
|
|
Nay, but I bar tonight. You shall not gauge me
|
|
By what we do tonight.
|
|
|
|
BASSANIO 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.
|
|
|
|
GRATIANO
|
|
And I must to Lorenzo and the rest.
|
|
But we will visit you at supper time.
|
|
[They exit.]
|
|
|
|
Scene 3
|
|
=======
|
|
[Enter Jessica and Lancelet Gobbo.]
|
|
|
|
|
|
JESSICA
|
|
I am sorry thou wilt leave my father so.
|
|
Our house is hell and thou, a merry devil,
|
|
Didst rob it of some taste of tediousness.
|
|
But fare thee well. There is a ducat for thee,
|
|
And, Lancelet, soon at supper shalt thou see
|
|
Lorenzo, who is thy new master's guest.
|
|
Give him this letter, do it secretly,
|
|
And so farewell. I would not have my father
|
|
See me in talk with thee.
|
|
|
|
LANCELET Adieu. Tears exhibit my tongue, most beautiful
|
|
pagan, most sweet Jew. If a Christian do not
|
|
play the knave and get thee, I am much deceived.
|
|
But adieu. These foolish drops do something drown
|
|
my manly spirit. Adieu.
|
|
|
|
JESSICA Farewell, good Lancelet.
|
|
[Lancelet exits.]
|
|
Alack, what heinous sin is it in me
|
|
To be ashamed 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.
|
|
[She exits.]
|
|
|
|
Scene 4
|
|
=======
|
|
[Enter Gratiano, Lorenzo, Salarino, and Solanio.]
|
|
|
|
|
|
LORENZO
|
|
Nay, we will slink away in supper time,
|
|
Disguise us at my lodging, and return
|
|
All in an hour.
|
|
|
|
GRATIANO
|
|
We have not made good preparation.
|
|
|
|
SALARINO
|
|
We have not spoke us yet of torchbearers.
|
|
|
|
SOLANIO
|
|
'Tis vile, unless it may be quaintly ordered,
|
|
And better in my mind not undertook.
|
|
|
|
LORENZO
|
|
'Tis now but four o'clock. We have two hours
|
|
To furnish us.
|
|
|
|
[Enter Lancelet.]
|
|
|
|
Friend Lancelet, what's the news?
|
|
|
|
LANCELET An it shall please you to break up this, it
|
|
shall seem to signify. [Handing him Jessica's letter.]
|
|
|
|
LORENZO
|
|
I know the hand; in faith, 'tis a fair hand,
|
|
And whiter than the paper it writ on
|
|
Is the fair hand that writ.
|
|
|
|
GRATIANO Love news, in faith!
|
|
|
|
LANCELET By your leave, sir.
|
|
|
|
LORENZO Whither goest thou?
|
|
|
|
LANCELET Marry, sir, to bid my old master the Jew to
|
|
sup tonight with my new master the Christian.
|
|
|
|
LORENZO
|
|
Hold here, take this. [Giving him money.] Tell gentle
|
|
Jessica
|
|
I will not fail her. Speak it privately.
|
|
[Lancelet exits.]
|
|
Go, gentlemen,
|
|
Will you prepare you for this masque tonight?
|
|
I am provided of a torchbearer.
|
|
|
|
SALARINO
|
|
Ay, marry, I'll be gone about it straight.
|
|
|
|
SOLANIO
|
|
And so will I.
|
|
|
|
LORENZO Meet me and Gratiano
|
|
At Gratiano's lodging some hour hence.
|
|
|
|
SALARINO 'Tis good we do so.
|
|
[Salarino and Solanio exit.]
|
|
|
|
GRATIANO
|
|
Was not that letter from fair Jessica?
|
|
|
|
LORENZO
|
|
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 furnished with,
|
|
What page's suit she hath in readiness.
|
|
If e'er the Jew her father come to heaven,
|
|
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.
|
|
Come, go with me. Peruse this as thou goest;
|
|
[Handing him the letter.]
|
|
Fair Jessica shall be my torchbearer.
|
|
[They exit.]
|
|
|
|
Scene 5
|
|
=======
|
|
[Enter Shylock, the Jew, and Lancelet,
|
|
his man that was, the Clown.]
|
|
|
|
|
|
SHYLOCK
|
|
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!
|
|
|
|
LANCELET Why, Jessica!
|
|
|
|
SHYLOCK
|
|
Who bids thee call? I do not bid thee call.
|
|
|
|
LANCELET Your Worship was wont to tell me I could
|
|
do nothing without bidding.
|
|
|
|
[Enter Jessica.]
|
|
|
|
|
|
JESSICA Call you? What is your will?
|
|
|
|
SHYLOCK
|
|
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 loath to go.
|
|
There is some ill a-brewing towards my rest,
|
|
For I did dream of money bags tonight.
|
|
|
|
LANCELET I beseech you, sir, go. My young master
|
|
doth expect your reproach.
|
|
|
|
SHYLOCK So do I his.
|
|
|
|
LANCELET And they have conspired together--I will
|
|
not say you shall see a masque, but if you do, then it
|
|
was not for nothing that my nose fell a-bleeding on
|
|
Black Monday last, at six o'clock i' th' morning,
|
|
falling out that year on Ash Wednesday was four
|
|
year in th' afternoon.
|
|
|
|
SHYLOCK
|
|
What, are there masques? Hear you me, Jessica,
|
|
Lock up my doors, and when you hear the drum
|
|
And the vile squealing of the wry-necked fife,
|
|
Clamber not you up to the casements then,
|
|
Nor thrust your head into the public street
|
|
To gaze on Christian fools with varnished faces,
|
|
But stop my house's ears (I mean my casements).
|
|
Let not the sound of shallow fopp'ry enter
|
|
My sober house. By Jacob's staff I swear
|
|
I have no mind of feasting forth tonight.
|
|
But I will go.--Go you before me, sirrah.
|
|
Say I will come.
|
|
|
|
LANCELET I will go before, sir. [Aside to Jessica.] Mistress,
|
|
look out at window for all this.
|
|
There will come a Christian by
|
|
Will be worth a Jewess' eye. [He exits.]
|
|
|
|
SHYLOCK
|
|
What says that fool of Hagar's offspring, ha?
|
|
|
|
JESSICA
|
|
His words were "Farewell, mistress," nothing else.
|
|
|
|
SHYLOCK
|
|
The patch is kind enough, but a huge feeder,
|
|
Snail-slow in profit, and he sleeps by day
|
|
More than the wildcat. 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. [He exits.]
|
|
|
|
JESSICA
|
|
Farewell, and if my fortune be not crossed,
|
|
I have a father, you a daughter, lost.
|
|
[She exits.]
|
|
|
|
Scene 6
|
|
=======
|
|
[Enter the masquers, Gratiano and Salarino.]
|
|
|
|
|
|
GRATIANO
|
|
This is the penthouse under which Lorenzo
|
|
Desired us to make stand.
|
|
|
|
SALARINO His hour is almost past.
|
|
|
|
GRATIANO
|
|
And it is marvel he outdwells his hour,
|
|
For lovers ever run before the clock.
|
|
|
|
SALARINO
|
|
O, ten times faster Venus' pigeons fly
|
|
To seal love's bonds new-made than they are wont
|
|
To keep obliged faith unforfeited.
|
|
|
|
GRATIANO
|
|
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 enjoyed.
|
|
How like a younger or a prodigal
|
|
The scarfed bark puts from her native bay,
|
|
Hugged and embraced by the strumpet wind;
|
|
How like the prodigal doth she return
|
|
With overweathered ribs and ragged sails,
|
|
Lean, rent, and beggared by the strumpet wind!
|
|
|
|
[Enter Lorenzo.]
|
|
|
|
|
|
SALARINO
|
|
Here comes Lorenzo. More of this hereafter.
|
|
|
|
LORENZO
|
|
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.--Ho! Who's within?
|
|
|
|
[Enter Jessica above, dressed as a boy.]
|
|
|
|
|
|
JESSICA
|
|
Who are you? Tell me for more certainty,
|
|
Albeit I'll swear that I do know your tongue.
|
|
|
|
LORENZO Lorenzo, and thy love.
|
|
|
|
JESSICA
|
|
Lorenzo certain, and my love indeed,
|
|
For who love I so much? And now who knows
|
|
But you, Lorenzo, whether I am yours?
|
|
|
|
LORENZO
|
|
Heaven and thy thoughts are witness that thou art.
|
|
|
|
JESSICA
|
|
Here, catch this casket; it is worth the pains.
|
|
I am glad 'tis night, you do not look on me,
|
|
For I am much ashamed 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.
|
|
|
|
LORENZO
|
|
Descend, for you must be my torchbearer.
|
|
|
|
JESSICA
|
|
What, must I hold a candle to my shames?
|
|
They in themselves, good sooth, are too too light.
|
|
Why, 'tis an office of discovery, love,
|
|
And I should be obscured.
|
|
|
|
LORENZO So are you, sweet,
|
|
Even in the lovely garnish of a boy.
|
|
But come at once,
|
|
For the close night doth play the runaway,
|
|
And we are stayed for at Bassanio's feast.
|
|
|
|
JESSICA
|
|
I will make fast the doors and gild myself
|
|
With some more ducats, and be with you straight.
|
|
[Jessica exits, above.]
|
|
|
|
GRATIANO
|
|
Now, by my hood, a gentle and no Jew!
|
|
|
|
LORENZO
|
|
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 proved herself.
|
|
And therefore, like herself, wise, fair, and true,
|
|
Shall she be placed in my constant soul.
|
|
|
|
[Enter Jessica, below.]
|
|
|
|
What, art thou come? On, gentleman, away!
|
|
Our masquing mates by this time for us stay.
|
|
[All but Gratiano exit.]
|
|
|
|
[Enter Antonio.]
|
|
|
|
|
|
ANTONIO Who's there?
|
|
|
|
GRATIANO Signior Antonio?
|
|
|
|
ANTONIO
|
|
Fie, fie, Gratiano, where are all the rest?
|
|
'Tis nine o'clock! Our friends all stay for you.
|
|
No masque tonight; the wind is come about;
|
|
Bassanio presently will go aboard.
|
|
I have sent twenty out to seek for you.
|
|
|
|
GRATIANO
|
|
I am glad on 't. I desire no more delight
|
|
Than to be under sail and gone tonight.
|
|
[They exit.]
|
|
|
|
Scene 7
|
|
=======
|
|
[Enter Portia with the Prince of Morocco and both
|
|
their trains.]
|
|
|
|
|
|
PORTIA
|
|
Go, draw aside the curtains and discover
|
|
The several caskets to this noble prince.
|
|
[A curtain is drawn.]
|
|
Now make your choice.
|
|
|
|
MOROCCO
|
|
This first, of gold, who this inscription bears,
|
|
"Who chooseth me shall gain what many men
|
|
desire";
|
|
The second, silver, which this promise carries,
|
|
"Who chooseth me shall get as much as he
|
|
deserves";
|
|
This third, dull lead, with warning all as blunt,
|
|
"Who chooseth me must give and hazard all he
|
|
hath."
|
|
How shall I know if I do choose the right?
|
|
|
|
PORTIA
|
|
The one of them contains my picture, prince.
|
|
If you choose that, then I am yours withal.
|
|
|
|
MOROCCO
|
|
Some god direct my judgment! Let me see.
|
|
I will survey th' inscriptions back again.
|
|
What says this leaden casket?
|
|
"Who chooseth me must give and hazard all he
|
|
hath."
|
|
Must give--for what? For lead? Hazard 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 aught for lead.
|
|
What says the silver with her virgin hue?
|
|
"Who chooseth me shall get as much as he
|
|
deserves."
|
|
As much as he deserves--pause there, Morocco,
|
|
And weigh thy value with an even hand.
|
|
If thou beest rated by thy estimation,
|
|
Thou dost deserve enough; and yet enough
|
|
May not extend so far as to the lady.
|
|
And yet to be afeard of my deserving
|
|
Were but a weak disabling of myself.
|
|
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 strayed no farther, but chose here?
|
|
Let's see once more this saying graved in gold:
|
|
"Who chooseth 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 Hyrcanian deserts and the vasty wilds
|
|
Of wide Arabia are as throughfares now
|
|
For princes to come view fair Portia.
|
|
The watery kingdom, whose ambitious head
|
|
Spets in the face of heaven, is no bar
|
|
To stop the foreign spirits, but they come
|
|
As o'er a brook to see fair Portia.
|
|
One of these three contains her heavenly picture.
|
|
Is 't like that lead contains her? 'Twere damnation
|
|
To think so base a thought. It were too gross
|
|
To rib her cerecloth in the obscure grave.
|
|
Or shall I think in silver she's immured,
|
|
Being ten times undervalued to tried gold?
|
|
O, sinful thought! Never so rich a gem
|
|
Was set in worse than gold. They have in England
|
|
A coin that bears the figure of an angel
|
|
Stamped in gold, but that's insculped upon;
|
|
But here an angel in a golden bed
|
|
Lies all within.--Deliver me the key.
|
|
Here do I choose, and thrive I as I may.
|
|
|
|
PORTIA
|
|
There, take it, prince. [Handing him the key.] And if
|
|
my form lie there,
|
|
Then I am yours.
|
|
[Morocco opens the gold casket.]
|
|
|
|
MOROCCO O hell! What have we here?
|
|
A carrion death within whose empty eye
|
|
There is a written scroll. I'll read the writing:
|
|
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 tombs do worms infold.
|
|
Had you been as wise as bold,
|
|
Young in limbs, in judgment old,
|
|
Your answer had not been enscrolled.
|
|
Fare you well, your suit is cold.
|
|
Cold indeed and labor lost!
|
|
Then, farewell, heat, and welcome, frost.
|
|
Portia, adieu. I have too grieved a heart
|
|
To take a tedious leave. Thus losers part.
|
|
[He exits, with his train.]
|
|
|
|
PORTIA
|
|
A gentle riddance! Draw the curtains, go.
|
|
Let all of his complexion choose me so.
|
|
[They exit.]
|
|
|
|
Scene 8
|
|
=======
|
|
[Enter Salarino and Solanio.]
|
|
|
|
|
|
SALARINO
|
|
Why, man, I saw Bassanio under sail;
|
|
With him is Gratiano gone along;
|
|
And in their ship I am sure Lorenzo is not.
|
|
|
|
SOLANIO
|
|
The villain Jew with outcries raised the Duke,
|
|
Who went with him to search Bassanio's ship.
|
|
|
|
SALARINO
|
|
He came too late; the ship was under sail.
|
|
But there the Duke was given to understand
|
|
That in a gondola were seen together
|
|
Lorenzo and his amorous Jessica.
|
|
Besides, Antonio certified the Duke
|
|
They were not with Bassanio in his ship.
|
|
|
|
SOLANIO
|
|
I never heard a passion so confused,
|
|
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,
|
|
Of double ducats, stol'n from me by my daughter,
|
|
And jewels--two stones, two rich and precious
|
|
stones--
|
|
Stol'n by my daughter! Justice! Find the girl!
|
|
She hath the stones upon her, and the ducats."
|
|
|
|
SALARINO
|
|
Why, all the boys in Venice follow him,
|
|
Crying "His stones, his daughter, and his ducats."
|
|
|
|
SOLANIO
|
|
Let good Antonio look he keep his day,
|
|
Or he shall pay for this.
|
|
|
|
SALARINO Marry, well remembered.
|
|
I reasoned 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 Antonio when he told me,
|
|
And wished in silence that it were not his.
|
|
|
|
SOLANIO
|
|
You were best to tell Antonio what you hear--
|
|
Yet do not suddenly, for it may grieve him.
|
|
|
|
SALARINO
|
|
A kinder gentleman treads not the Earth.
|
|
I saw Bassanio and Antonio 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.
|
|
|
|
SOLANIO
|
|
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.
|
|
|
|
SALARINO Do we so.
|
|
[They exit.]
|
|
|
|
Scene 9
|
|
=======
|
|
[Enter Nerissa and a Servitor.]
|
|
|
|
|
|
NERISSA
|
|
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 the Prince of Arragon, his train, and Portia.]
|
|
|
|
|
|
PORTIA
|
|
Behold, there stand the caskets, noble prince.
|
|
If you choose that wherein I am contained,
|
|
Straight shall our nuptial rites be solemnized.
|
|
But if you fail, without more speech, my lord,
|
|
You must be gone from hence immediately.
|
|
|
|
ARRAGON
|
|
I am enjoined by oath to observe three things:
|
|
First, never to unfold to anyone
|
|
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.
|
|
|
|
PORTIA
|
|
To these injunctions everyone doth swear
|
|
That comes to hazard for my worthless self.
|
|
|
|
ARRAGON
|
|
And so have I addressed me. Fortune now
|
|
To my heart's hope! Gold, silver, and base lead.
|
|
"Who chooseth me must give and hazard all he
|
|
hath."
|
|
You shall look fairer ere I give or hazard.
|
|
What says the golden chest? Ha, let me see:
|
|
"Who chooseth me shall gain what many men
|
|
desire."
|
|
What many men desire--that "many" may be
|
|
meant
|
|
By the fool multitude that choose by show,
|
|
Not learning more than the fond eye doth teach,
|
|
Which pries 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 choose 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 chooseth me shall get as much as he
|
|
deserves."
|
|
And well said, too; for who shall go about
|
|
To cozen fortune and be honorable
|
|
Without the stamp of merit? Let none presume
|
|
To wear an undeserved dignity.
|
|
O, that estates, degrees, and offices
|
|
Were not derived corruptly, and that clear honor
|
|
Were purchased 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 honor? And how much honor
|
|
Picked from the chaff and ruin of the times,
|
|
To be new varnished? Well, but to my choice.
|
|
"Who chooseth me shall get as much as he
|
|
deserves."
|
|
I will assume desert. Give me a key for this,
|
|
[He is given a key.]
|
|
And instantly unlock my fortunes here.
|
|
[He opens the silver casket.]
|
|
|
|
PORTIA
|
|
Too long a pause for that which you find there.
|
|
|
|
ARRAGON
|
|
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 deservings.
|
|
"Who chooseth 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?
|
|
|
|
PORTIA
|
|
To offend and judge are distinct offices
|
|
And of opposed natures.
|
|
|
|
ARRAGON What is here?
|
|
[He reads.]
|
|
|
|
The fire seven times tried this;
|
|
Seven times tried that judgment is
|
|
That did never choose amiss.
|
|
Some there be that shadows kiss;
|
|
Such have but a shadow's bliss.
|
|
There be fools alive, iwis,
|
|
Silvered o'er--and so was this.
|
|
Take what wife you will to bed,
|
|
I will ever be your head.
|
|
So begone; you are sped.
|
|
Still more fool I shall appear
|
|
By the time I linger here.
|
|
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. [He exits with his train.]
|
|
|
|
PORTIA
|
|
Thus hath the candle singed the moth.
|
|
O, these deliberate fools, when they do choose,
|
|
They have the wisdom by their wit to lose.
|
|
|
|
NERISSA
|
|
The ancient saying is no heresy:
|
|
Hanging and wiving goes by destiny.
|
|
|
|
PORTIA Come, draw the curtain, Nerissa.
|
|
|
|
[Enter Messenger.]
|
|
|
|
|
|
MESSENGER
|
|
Where is my lady?
|
|
|
|
PORTIA Here. What would my
|
|
lord?
|
|
|
|
MESSENGER
|
|
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.
|
|
|
|
PORTIA
|
|
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.
|
|
|
|
NERISSA
|
|
Bassanio, Lord Love, if thy will it be!
|
|
[They exit.]
|
|
|
|
|
|
ACT 3
|
|
=====
|
|
|
|
Scene 1
|
|
=======
|
|
[Enter Solanio and Salarino.]
|
|
|
|
|
|
SOLANIO Now, what news on the Rialto?
|
|
|
|
SALARINO Why, yet it lives there unchecked that Antonio
|
|
hath a ship of rich lading wracked 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 ship lie buried, as they say,
|
|
if my gossip Report be an honest woman of her
|
|
word.
|
|
|
|
SOLANIO I would she were as lying a gossip in that as
|
|
ever knapped ginger or made her neighbors believe
|
|
she wept for the death of a third husband. But
|
|
it is true, without any slips of prolixity or crossing
|
|
the plain highway of talk, that the good Antonio,
|
|
the honest Antonio--O, that I had a title good
|
|
enough to keep his name company!--
|
|
|
|
SALARINO Come, the full stop.
|
|
|
|
SOLANIO Ha, what sayest thou? Why, the end is, he
|
|
hath lost a ship.
|
|
|
|
SALARINO I would it might prove the end of his losses.
|
|
|
|
SOLANIO Let me say "amen" betimes, lest the devil
|
|
cross my prayer, for here he comes in the likeness
|
|
of a Jew.
|
|
|
|
[Enter Shylock.]
|
|
|
|
How now, Shylock, what news among the
|
|
merchants?
|
|
|
|
SHYLOCK You knew, none so well, none so well as you,
|
|
of my daughter's flight.
|
|
|
|
SALARINO That's certain. I for my part knew the tailor
|
|
that made the wings she flew withal.
|
|
|
|
SOLANIO And Shylock for his own part knew the bird
|
|
was fledge, and then it is the complexion of them
|
|
all to leave the dam.
|
|
|
|
SHYLOCK She is damned for it.
|
|
|
|
SALARINO That's certain, if the devil may be her judge.
|
|
|
|
SHYLOCK My own flesh and blood to rebel!
|
|
|
|
SOLANIO Out upon it, old carrion! Rebels it at these
|
|
years?
|
|
|
|
SHYLOCK I say my daughter is my flesh and my blood.
|
|
|
|
SALARINO 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 Antonio
|
|
have had any loss at sea or no?
|
|
|
|
SHYLOCK There I have another bad match! A bankrout,
|
|
a prodigal, who dare scarce show his head on
|
|
the Rialto, a beggar that was used 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 money for a Christian cur'sy; let
|
|
him look to his bond.
|
|
|
|
SALARINO Why, I am sure if he forfeit, thou wilt not
|
|
take his flesh! What's that good for?
|
|
|
|
SHYLOCK To bait fish withal; if it will feed nothing else,
|
|
it will feed my revenge. He hath disgraced me and
|
|
hindered me half a million, laughed at my losses,
|
|
mocked at my gains, scorned my nation, thwarted
|
|
my bargains, cooled my friends, heated mine enemies--
|
|
and what's his 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, healed by the same means,
|
|
warmed and cooled 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 Christian
|
|
example? Why, revenge! The villainy you teach me I
|
|
will execute, and it shall go hard but I will better the
|
|
instruction.
|
|
|
|
[Enter a man from Antonio.]
|
|
|
|
|
|
SERVINGMAN Gentlemen, my master Antonio is at his
|
|
house and desires to speak with you both.
|
|
|
|
SALARINO We have been up and down to seek him.
|
|
|
|
[Enter Tubal.]
|
|
|
|
|
|
SOLANIO Here comes another of the tribe; a third
|
|
cannot be matched unless the devil himself turn
|
|
Jew.
|
|
[Salarino, Solanio, and the Servingman exit.]
|
|
|
|
SHYLOCK How now, Tubal, what news from Genoa?
|
|
Hast thou found my daughter?
|
|
|
|
TUBAL I often came where I did hear of her, but
|
|
cannot find her.
|
|
|
|
SHYLOCK Why, there, there, there, there! A diamond
|
|
gone cost me two thousand ducats in Frankfurt!
|
|
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 hearsed at my foot and the
|
|
ducats in her coffin. No news of them? Why so? And
|
|
I know not what's spent in the search! Why, thou
|
|
loss upon loss! The thief gone with so much, and so
|
|
much to 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.
|
|
|
|
TUBAL Yes, other men have ill luck, too. Antonio, as I
|
|
heard in Genoa--
|
|
|
|
SHYLOCK What, what, what? Ill luck, ill luck?
|
|
|
|
TUBAL --hath an argosy cast away coming from
|
|
Tripolis.
|
|
|
|
SHYLOCK I thank God, I thank God! Is it true, is it true?
|
|
|
|
TUBAL I spoke with some of the sailors that escaped
|
|
the wrack.
|
|
|
|
SHYLOCK I thank thee, good Tubal. Good news, good
|
|
news! Ha, ha, heard in Genoa--
|
|
|
|
TUBAL Your daughter spent in Genoa, as I heard, one
|
|
night fourscore ducats.
|
|
|
|
SHYLOCK Thou stick'st a dagger in me. I shall never
|
|
see my gold again. Fourscore ducats at a sitting,
|
|
fourscore ducats!
|
|
|
|
TUBAL There came divers of Antonio's creditors in my
|
|
company to Venice that swear he cannot choose
|
|
but break.
|
|
|
|
SHYLOCK I am very glad of it. I'll plague him, I'll
|
|
torture him. I am glad of it.
|
|
|
|
TUBAL One of them showed me a ring that he had of
|
|
your daughter for a monkey.
|
|
|
|
SHYLOCK Out upon her! Thou torturest me, Tubal. It
|
|
was my turquoise! I had it of Leah when I was a
|
|
bachelor. I would not have given it for a wilderness
|
|
of monkeys.
|
|
|
|
TUBAL But Antonio is certainly undone.
|
|
|
|
SHYLOCK Nay, that's true, that's very true. Go, Tubal,
|
|
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 merchandise I will.
|
|
Go, Tubal, and meet me at our synagogue. Go, good
|
|
Tubal, at our synagogue, Tubal.
|
|
[They exit.]
|
|
|
|
Scene 2
|
|
=======
|
|
[Enter Bassanio, Portia, and all their trains, Gratiano,
|
|
Nerissa.]
|
|
|
|
|
|
PORTIA
|
|
I pray you tarry, pause a day or two
|
|
Before you hazard, for in choosing 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 yourself
|
|
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 choose 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'erlooked me and divided me.
|
|
One half of me is yours, the other half yours--
|
|
Mine own, I would say--but if mine, then yours,
|
|
And so all yours. O, these naughty times
|
|
Puts bars between the owners and their rights!
|
|
And so though yours, not yours. Prove it so,
|
|
Let Fortune go to hell for it, not I.
|
|
I speak too long, but 'tis to peize the time,
|
|
To eche it, and to draw it out in length,
|
|
To stay you from election.
|
|
|
|
BASSANIO Let me choose,
|
|
For as I am, I live upon the rack.
|
|
|
|
PORTIA
|
|
Upon the rack, Bassanio? Then confess
|
|
What treason there is mingled with your love.
|
|
|
|
BASSANIO
|
|
None but that ugly treason of mistrust,
|
|
Which makes me fear th' enjoying of my love.
|
|
There may as well be amity and life
|
|
'Tween snow and fire, as treason and my love.
|
|
|
|
PORTIA
|
|
Ay, but I fear you speak upon the rack
|
|
Where men enforced do speak anything.
|
|
|
|
BASSANIO
|
|
Promise me life and I'll confess the truth.
|
|
|
|
PORTIA
|
|
Well, then, confess and live.
|
|
|
|
BASSANIO "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.
|
|
|
|
PORTIA
|
|
Away, then. I am locked in one of them.
|
|
If you do love me, you will find me out.--
|
|
Nerissa and the rest, stand all aloof.
|
|
Let music sound while he doth make his choice.
|
|
Then if he lose he makes a swanlike end,
|
|
Fading in music. That the comparison
|
|
May stand more proper, my eye shall be the stream
|
|
And wat'ry deathbed for him. He may win,
|
|
And what is music then? Then music 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.
|
|
|
|
[A song the 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?
|
|
Reply, reply.
|
|
It is engendered in the eye,
|
|
With gazing fed, and fancy dies
|
|
In the cradle where it lies.
|
|
Let us all ring fancy's knell.
|
|
I'll begin it.--Ding, dong, bell.
|
|
|
|
ALL Ding, dong, bell.
|
|
|
|
BASSANIO
|
|
So may the outward shows be least themselves;
|
|
The world is still deceived with ornament.
|
|
In law, what plea so tainted and corrupt
|
|
But, being seasoned 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 searched have livers white as milk,
|
|
And these assume but valor's excrement
|
|
To render them redoubted. Look on beauty,
|
|
And you shall see 'tis purchased 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 maketh such wanton gambols with the wind
|
|
Upon supposed fairness, often known
|
|
To be the dowry of a second head,
|
|
The skull that bred them in the sepulcher.
|
|
Thus ornament is but the guiled 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, then, 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 threaten'st than dost promise aught,
|
|
Thy paleness moves me more than eloquence,
|
|
And here choose I. Joy be the consequence!
|
|
[Bassanio is given a key.]
|
|
|
|
PORTIA, [aside]
|
|
How all the other passions fleet to air,
|
|
As doubtful thoughts and rash embraced despair,
|
|
And shudd'ring fear, and green-eyed jealousy!
|
|
O love, be moderate, allay thy ecstasy,
|
|
In measure rain thy joy, scant this excess!
|
|
I feel too much thy blessing. Make it less,
|
|
For fear I surfeit.
|
|
[Bassanio opens the lead casket.]
|
|
|
|
BASSANIO What find I here?
|
|
Fair Portia's counterfeit! What demigod
|
|
Hath come so near creation? Move these eyes?
|
|
Or whether, riding on the balls of mine,
|
|
Seem they in motion? Here are severed 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' entrap 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 itself unfurnished. Yet look how far
|
|
The substance of my praise doth wrong this shadow
|
|
In underprizing it, so far this shadow
|
|
Doth limp behind the substance. Here's the scroll,
|
|
The continent and summary of my fortune.
|
|
[He reads the scroll.]
|
|
You that choose not by the view
|
|
Chance as fair and choose 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 scroll! Fair lady, by your leave,
|
|
I come by note to give and to receive.
|
|
Like one of two contending in a prize
|
|
That thinks he hath done well in people's 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 confirmed, signed, ratified by you.
|
|
|
|
PORTIA
|
|
You see me, Lord Bassanio, where I stand,
|
|
Such as I am. Though for myself alone
|
|
I would not be ambitious in my wish
|
|
To wish myself much better, yet for you
|
|
I would be trebled twenty times myself,
|
|
A thousand times more fair, ten thousand times
|
|
More rich, that only to stand high in your account
|
|
I might in virtues, beauties, livings, friends,
|
|
Exceed account. But the full sum of me
|
|
Is sum of something, which, to term in gross,
|
|
Is an unlessoned girl, unschooled, unpracticed;
|
|
Happy in this, she is not yet so old
|
|
But she may learn; happier than this,
|
|
She is not bred so dull but she can learn;
|
|
Happiest of all, is that her gentle spirit
|
|
Commits itself to yours to be directed
|
|
As from her lord, her governor, her king.
|
|
Myself, and what is mine, to you and yours
|
|
Is now converted. But now I was the lord
|
|
Of this fair mansion, master of my servants,
|
|
Queen o'er myself; and even now, but now,
|
|
This house, these servants, and this same myself
|
|
Are yours, my lord's. I give them with this ring,
|
|
[Handing him a 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.
|
|
|
|
BASSANIO
|
|
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
|
|
Expressed and not expressed. But when this ring
|
|
Parts from this finger, then parts life from hence.
|
|
O, then be bold to say Bassanio's dead!
|
|
|
|
NERISSA
|
|
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!"
|
|
|
|
GRATIANO
|
|
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 honors mean to solemnize
|
|
The bargain of your faith, I do beseech you
|
|
Even at that time I may be married too.
|
|
|
|
BASSANIO
|
|
With all my heart, so thou canst get a wife.
|
|
|
|
GRATIANO
|
|
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 loved, I loved; 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 here 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
|
|
Achieved her mistress.
|
|
|
|
PORTIA Is this true, Nerissa?
|
|
|
|
NERISSA
|
|
Madam, it is, so you stand pleased withal.
|
|
|
|
BASSANIO
|
|
And do you, Gratiano, mean good faith?
|
|
|
|
GRATIANO Yes, faith, my lord.
|
|
|
|
BASSANIO
|
|
Our feast shall be much honored in your marriage.
|
|
|
|
GRATIANO We'll play with them the first boy for a
|
|
thousand ducats.
|
|
|
|
NERISSA What, and stake down?
|
|
|
|
GRATIANO No, we shall ne'er win at that sport and
|
|
stake down.
|
|
|
|
[Enter Lorenzo, Jessica, and Salerio, a messenger
|
|
from Venice.]
|
|
|
|
But who comes here? Lorenzo and his infidel?
|
|
What, and my old Venetian friend Salerio?
|
|
|
|
BASSANIO
|
|
Lorenzo and Salerio, welcome hither--
|
|
If that the youth of my new int'rest here
|
|
Have power to bid you welcome. [To Portia.] By
|
|
your leave,
|
|
I bid my very friends and countrymen,
|
|
Sweet Portia, welcome.
|
|
|
|
PORTIA
|
|
So do I, my lord. They are entirely welcome.
|
|
|
|
LORENZO, [to Bassanio]
|
|
I thank your Honor. For my part, my lord,
|
|
My purpose was not to have seen you here,
|
|
But meeting with Salerio by the way,
|
|
He did entreat me past all saying nay
|
|
To come with him along.
|
|
|
|
SALERIO I did, my lord,
|
|
And I have reason for it. [Handing him a paper.]
|
|
Signior Antonio
|
|
Commends him to you.
|
|
|
|
BASSANIO Ere I ope his letter,
|
|
I pray you tell me how my good friend doth.
|
|
|
|
SALERIO
|
|
Not sick, my lord, unless it be in mind,
|
|
Nor well, unless in mind. His letter there
|
|
Will show you his estate.
|
|
[Bassanio opens the letter.]
|
|
|
|
GRATIANO
|
|
Nerissa, cheer yond stranger, bid her welcome.--
|
|
Your hand, Salerio. What's the news from Venice?
|
|
How doth that royal merchant, good Antonio?
|
|
I know he will be glad of our success.
|
|
We are the Jasons, we have won the Fleece.
|
|
|
|
SALERIO
|
|
I would you had won the fleece that he hath lost.
|
|
|
|
PORTIA
|
|
There are some shrewd contents in yond same
|
|
paper
|
|
That steals the color 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 yourself,
|
|
And I must freely have the half of anything
|
|
That this same paper brings you.
|
|
|
|
BASSANIO 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 myself 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 engaged myself to a dear friend,
|
|
Engaged my friend to his mere 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, Salerio?
|
|
Hath all his ventures failed? What, not one hit?
|
|
From Tripolis, from Mexico and England,
|
|
From Lisbon, Barbary, and India,
|
|
And not one vessel 'scape the dreadful touch
|
|
Of merchant-marring rocks?
|
|
|
|
SALERIO Not one, my lord.
|
|
Besides, it should appear that if he had
|
|
The present money 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.
|
|
|
|
JESSICA
|
|
When I was with him, I have heard him swear
|
|
To Tubal and to Chus, his countrymen,
|
|
That he would rather have Antonio'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 Antonio.
|
|
|
|
PORTIA
|
|
Is it your dear friend that is thus in trouble?
|
|
|
|
BASSANIO
|
|
The dearest friend to me, the kindest man,
|
|
The best conditioned and unwearied spirit
|
|
In doing courtesies, and one in whom
|
|
The ancient Roman honor more appears
|
|
Than any that draws breath in Italy.
|
|
|
|
PORTIA What sum owes he the Jew?
|
|
|
|
BASSANIO
|
|
For me, three thousand ducats.
|
|
|
|
PORTIA 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 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 lie by Portia's side
|
|
With an unquiet soul. You shall have gold
|
|
To pay the petty debt twenty times over.
|
|
When it is paid, bring your true friend along.
|
|
My maid Nerissa and myself meantime
|
|
Will live as maids and widows. Come, away,
|
|
For you shall hence upon your 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.
|
|
|
|
BASSANIO [reads]
|
|
Sweet Bassanio, my ships have all miscarried, 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 but see you at my death. Notwithstanding, use
|
|
your pleasure. If your love do not persuade you to
|
|
come, let not my letter.
|
|
|
|
PORTIA
|
|
O love, dispatch all business and begone!
|
|
|
|
BASSANIO
|
|
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 twain.
|
|
[They exit.]
|
|
|
|
Scene 3
|
|
=======
|
|
[Enter Shylock, the Jew, and Solanio, and Antonio,
|
|
and the Jailer.]
|
|
|
|
|
|
SHYLOCK
|
|
Jailer, look to him. Tell not me of mercy.
|
|
This is the fool that lent out money gratis.
|
|
Jailer, look to him.
|
|
|
|
ANTONIO Hear me yet, good Shylock--
|
|
|
|
SHYLOCK
|
|
I'll have my bond. Speak not against my bond.
|
|
I have sworn an oath that I will have my bond.
|
|
Thou call'dst 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 jailer, that thou art so fond
|
|
To come abroad with him at his request.
|
|
|
|
ANTONIO I pray thee, hear me speak--
|
|
|
|
SHYLOCK
|
|
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-eyed fool,
|
|
To shake the head, relent, and sigh, and yield
|
|
To Christian intercessors. Follow not!
|
|
I'll have no speaking. I will have my bond. [He exits.]
|
|
|
|
SOLANIO
|
|
It is the most impenetrable cur
|
|
That ever kept with men.
|
|
|
|
ANTONIO Let him alone.
|
|
I'll follow him no more with bootless prayers.
|
|
He seeks my life. His reason well I know:
|
|
I oft delivered from his forfeitures
|
|
Many that have at times made moan to me.
|
|
Therefore he hates me.
|
|
|
|
SOLANIO I am sure the Duke
|
|
Will never grant this forfeiture to hold.
|
|
|
|
ANTONIO
|
|
The Duke cannot deny the course of law,
|
|
For the commodity that strangers have
|
|
With us in Venice, if it be denied,
|
|
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
|
|
Tomorrow to my bloody creditor.--
|
|
Well, jailer, on.--Pray God Bassanio come
|
|
To see me pay his debt, and then I care not.
|
|
[They exit.]
|
|
|
|
Scene 4
|
|
=======
|
|
[Enter Portia, Nerissa, Lorenzo, Jessica, and Balthazar,
|
|
a man of Portia's.]
|
|
|
|
|
|
LORENZO
|
|
Madam, although I speak it in your presence,
|
|
You have a noble and a true conceit
|
|
Of godlike amity, which appears most strongly
|
|
In bearing thus the absence of your lord.
|
|
But if you knew to whom you show this honor,
|
|
How true a gentleman you send relief,
|
|
How dear a lover of my lord your husband,
|
|
I know you would be prouder of the work
|
|
Than customary bounty can enforce you.
|
|
|
|
PORTIA
|
|
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;
|
|
Which makes me think that this Antonio,
|
|
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 myself;
|
|
Therefore no more of it. Hear 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 heaven breathed 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.
|
|
|
|
LORENZO Madam, with all my heart.
|
|
I shall obey you in all fair commands.
|
|
|
|
PORTIA
|
|
My people do already know my mind
|
|
And will acknowledge you and Jessica
|
|
In place of Lord Bassanio and myself.
|
|
So fare you well till we shall meet again.
|
|
|
|
LORENZO
|
|
Fair thoughts and happy hours attend on you!
|
|
|
|
JESSICA
|
|
I wish your Ladyship all heart's content.
|
|
|
|
PORTIA
|
|
I thank you for your wish, and am well pleased
|
|
To wish it back on you. Fare you well, Jessica.
|
|
[Lorenzo and Jessica exit.]
|
|
Now, Balthazar,
|
|
As I have ever found thee honest true,
|
|
So let me find thee still: take this same letter,
|
|
And use thou all th' endeavor of a man
|
|
In speed to Padua. See thou render this
|
|
Into my cousin's hands, Doctor Bellario.
|
|
[She gives him a paper.]
|
|
And look what notes and garments he doth give
|
|
thee,
|
|
Bring them, I pray thee, with imagined 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.
|
|
|
|
BALTHAZAR
|
|
Madam, I go with all convenient speed. [He exits.]
|
|
|
|
PORTIA
|
|
Come on, Nerissa, I have work in hand
|
|
That you yet know not of. We'll see our husbands
|
|
Before they think of us.
|
|
|
|
NERISSA Shall they see us?
|
|
|
|
PORTIA
|
|
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 accoutered 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 honorable 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 killed them.
|
|
And twenty of these puny lies I'll tell,
|
|
That men shall swear I have discontinued school
|
|
Above a twelvemonth. I have within my mind
|
|
A thousand raw tricks of these bragging jacks
|
|
Which I will practice.
|
|
|
|
NERISSA Why, shall we turn to men?
|
|
|
|
PORTIA 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 today.
|
|
[They exit.]
|
|
|
|
Scene 5
|
|
=======
|
|
[Enter Lancelet, the Clown, and Jessica.]
|
|
|
|
|
|
LANCELET 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 o' good cheer, for truly I think you
|
|
are damned. There is but one hope in it that can do
|
|
you any good, and that is but a kind of bastard hope
|
|
neither.
|
|
|
|
JESSICA And what hope is that, I pray thee?
|
|
|
|
LANCELET Marry, you may partly hope that your father
|
|
got you not, that you are not the Jew's daughter.
|
|
|
|
JESSICA That were a kind of bastard hope indeed; so
|
|
the sins of my mother should be visited upon me!
|
|
|
|
LANCELET Truly, then, I fear you are damned both by
|
|
father and mother; thus when I shun Scylla your
|
|
father, I fall into Charybdis your mother. Well, you
|
|
are gone both ways.
|
|
|
|
JESSICA I shall be saved by my husband. He hath made
|
|
me a Christian.
|
|
|
|
LANCELET Truly the more to blame he! We were Christians
|
|
enow 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 money.
|
|
|
|
[Enter Lorenzo.]
|
|
|
|
|
|
JESSICA I'll tell my husband, Lancelet, what you say.
|
|
Here he comes.
|
|
|
|
LORENZO I shall grow jealous of you shortly, Lancelet,
|
|
if you thus get my wife into corners!
|
|
|
|
JESSICA Nay, you need not fear us, Lorenzo. Lancelet
|
|
and I are out. He tells me flatly there's no mercy for
|
|
me in heaven 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.
|
|
|
|
LORENZO 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, Lancelet.
|
|
|
|
LANCELET 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.
|
|
|
|
LORENZO 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 parrots. Go in, sirrah, bid them prepare for
|
|
dinner.
|
|
|
|
LANCELET That is done, sir. They have all stomachs.
|
|
|
|
LORENZO Goodly Lord, what a wit-snapper are you!
|
|
Then bid them prepare dinner.
|
|
|
|
LANCELET That is done too, sir, only "cover" is the
|
|
word.
|
|
|
|
LORENZO Will you cover, then, sir?
|
|
|
|
LANCELET Not so, sir, neither! I know my duty.
|
|
|
|
LORENZO Yet more quarreling with occasion! Wilt
|
|
thou show 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.
|
|
|
|
LANCELET 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 humors and conceits
|
|
shall govern. [Lancelet exits.]
|
|
|
|
LORENZO
|
|
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,
|
|
Garnished like him, that for a tricksy word
|
|
Defy the matter. How cheer'st thou, Jessica?
|
|
And now, good sweet, say thy opinion
|
|
How dost thou like the Lord Bassanio's wife?
|
|
|
|
JESSICA
|
|
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 heaven here on Earth,
|
|
And if on Earth he do not merit it,
|
|
In reason he should never come to heaven.
|
|
Why, if two gods should play some heavenly match,
|
|
And on the wager lay two earthly women,
|
|
And Portia one, there must be something else
|
|
Pawned with the other, for the poor rude world
|
|
Hath not her fellow.
|
|
|
|
LORENZO Even such a husband
|
|
Hast thou of me as she is for a wife.
|
|
|
|
JESSICA
|
|
Nay, but ask my opinion too of that!
|
|
|
|
LORENZO
|
|
I will anon. First let us go to dinner.
|
|
|
|
JESSICA
|
|
Nay, let me praise you while I have a stomach!
|
|
|
|
LORENZO
|
|
No, pray thee, let it serve for table talk.
|
|
Then howsome'er thou speak'st, 'mong other things
|
|
I shall digest it.
|
|
|
|
JESSICA Well, I'll set you forth.
|
|
[They exit.]
|
|
|
|
|
|
ACT 4
|
|
=====
|
|
|
|
Scene 1
|
|
=======
|
|
[Enter the Duke, the Magnificoes, Antonio, Bassanio,
|
|
Salerio, and Gratiano, with Attendants.]
|
|
|
|
|
|
DUKE What, is Antonio here?
|
|
|
|
ANTONIO Ready, so please your Grace.
|
|
|
|
DUKE
|
|
I am sorry for thee. Thou art come to answer
|
|
A stony adversary, an inhuman wretch,
|
|
Uncapable of pity, void and empty
|
|
From any dram of mercy.
|
|
|
|
ANTONIO I have heard
|
|
Your Grace hath ta'en great pains to qualify
|
|
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 armed
|
|
To suffer with a quietness of spirit
|
|
The very tyranny and rage of his.
|
|
|
|
DUKE
|
|
Go, one, and call the Jew into the court.
|
|
|
|
SALERIO
|
|
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 leadest this fashion of thy malice
|
|
To the last hour of act, and then, 'tis thought,
|
|
Thou 'lt show thy mercy and remorse more strange
|
|
Than is thy strange apparent cruelty;
|
|
And where thou now exacts the penalty,
|
|
Which is a pound of this poor merchant's flesh,
|
|
Thou wilt not only loose the forfeiture,
|
|
But, touched with humane gentleness and love,
|
|
Forgive a moi'ty of the principal,
|
|
Glancing an eye of pity on his losses
|
|
That have of late so huddled on his back,
|
|
Enow 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 trained
|
|
To offices of tender courtesy.
|
|
We all expect a gentle answer, Jew.
|
|
|
|
SHYLOCK
|
|
I have possessed 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 choose to have
|
|
A weight of carrion flesh than to receive
|
|
Three thousand ducats. I'll not answer that,
|
|
But say it is my humor. Is it answered?
|
|
What if my house be troubled with a rat,
|
|
And I be pleased to give ten thousand ducats
|
|
To have it baned? What, are you answered yet?
|
|
Some men there are love not a gaping pig,
|
|
Some that are mad if they behold a cat,
|
|
And others, when the bagpipe sings i' th' nose,
|
|
Cannot contain their urine; for affection
|
|
Masters oft passion, sways it to the mood
|
|
Of what it likes or loathes. Now for your answer:
|
|
As there is no firm reason to be rendered
|
|
Why he cannot abide a gaping pig,
|
|
Why he a harmless necessary cat,
|
|
Why he a woolen bagpipe, 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 lodged hate and a certain loathing
|
|
I bear Antonio, that I follow thus
|
|
A losing suit against him. Are you answered?
|
|
|
|
BASSANIO
|
|
This is no answer, thou unfeeling man,
|
|
To excuse the current of thy cruelty.
|
|
|
|
SHYLOCK
|
|
I am not bound to please thee with my answers.
|
|
|
|
BASSANIO
|
|
Do all men kill the things they do not love?
|
|
|
|
SHYLOCK
|
|
Hates any man the thing he would not kill?
|
|
|
|
BASSANIO
|
|
Every offence is not a hate at first.
|
|
|
|
SHYLOCK
|
|
What, wouldst thou have a serpent sting thee twice?
|
|
|
|
ANTONIO, [to Bassanio]
|
|
I pray you, think you question with the Jew.
|
|
You may as well go stand upon the beach
|
|
And bid the main flood bate his usual height;
|
|
You may as well use question with the wolf
|
|
Why he hath made the ewe bleat for the lamb;
|
|
You may as well forbid the mountain pines
|
|
To wag their high tops and to make no noise
|
|
When they are fretten with the gusts of heaven;
|
|
You may as well do anything most hard
|
|
As seek to soften that than which what's harder?--
|
|
His Jewish heart. Therefore I do beseech you
|
|
Make no more offers, use no farther means,
|
|
But with all brief and plain conveniency
|
|
Let me have judgment and the Jew his will.
|
|
|
|
BASSANIO
|
|
For thy three thousand ducats here is six.
|
|
|
|
SHYLOCK
|
|
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, rend'ring none?
|
|
|
|
SHYLOCK
|
|
What judgment shall I dread, doing no wrong?
|
|
You have among you many a purchased slave,
|
|
Which, like your asses and your dogs and mules,
|
|
You use in abject and in slavish parts
|
|
Because you bought them. Shall I say to you
|
|
"Let them be free! Marry them to your heirs!
|
|
Why sweat they under burdens? Let their beds
|
|
Be made as soft as yours, and let their palates
|
|
Be seasoned 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 today.
|
|
|
|
SALERIO My lord, here stays without
|
|
A messenger with letters from the doctor,
|
|
New come from Padua.
|
|
|
|
DUKE
|
|
Bring us the letters. Call the messenger.
|
|
|
|
BASSANIO
|
|
Good cheer, Antonio! What, man, courage yet!
|
|
The Jew shall have my flesh, blood, bones, and all
|
|
Ere thou shalt lose for me one drop of blood!
|
|
|
|
ANTONIO
|
|
I am a tainted wether of the flock,
|
|
Meetest for death. The weakest kind of fruit
|
|
Drops earliest to the ground, and so let me.
|
|
You cannot better be employed, Bassanio,
|
|
Than to live still and write mine epitaph.
|
|
|
|
[Enter Nerissa, disguised as a lawyer's clerk.]
|
|
|
|
|
|
DUKE
|
|
Came you from Padua, from Bellario?
|
|
|
|
NERISSA, [as Clerk]
|
|
From both, my lord. Bellario greets your Grace.
|
|
[Handing him a paper, which he reads, aside, while
|
|
Shylock sharpens his knife on the sole of his shoe.]
|
|
|
|
BASSANIO
|
|
Why dost thou whet thy knife so earnestly?
|
|
|
|
SHYLOCK
|
|
To cut the forfeiture from that bankrout there.
|
|
|
|
GRATIANO
|
|
Not on thy sole but on thy soul, harsh Jew,
|
|
Thou mak'st thy knife keen. But no metal can,
|
|
No, not the hangman's axe, bear half the keenness
|
|
Of thy sharp envy. Can no prayers pierce thee?
|
|
|
|
SHYLOCK
|
|
No, none that thou hast wit enough to make.
|
|
|
|
GRATIANO
|
|
O, be thou damned, inexecrable dog,
|
|
And for thy life let justice be accused;
|
|
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
|
|
Governed a wolf who, hanged for human slaughter,
|
|
Even from the gallows did his fell soul fleet,
|
|
And whilst thou layest in thy unhallowed dam,
|
|
Infused itself in thee, for thy desires
|
|
Are wolfish, bloody, starved, and ravenous.
|
|
|
|
SHYLOCK
|
|
Till thou canst rail the seal from off my bond,
|
|
Thou but offend'st thy lungs to speak so loud.
|
|
Repair thy wit, good youth, or it will fall
|
|
To cureless ruin. I stand here for law.
|
|
|
|
DUKE
|
|
This letter from Bellario doth commend
|
|
A young and learned doctor to our court.
|
|
Where is he?
|
|
|
|
NERISSA, [as Clerk] 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.
|
|
[Attendants exit.]
|
|
Meantime the court shall hear Bellario's letter.
|
|
[He reads.]
|
|
Your Grace shall understand that, at the receipt of
|
|
your letter, I am very sick, but in the instant that your
|
|
messenger came, in loving visitation was with me a
|
|
young doctor of Rome. His name is Balthazar. I
|
|
acquainted him with the cause in controversy between
|
|
the Jew and Antonio the merchant. We turned 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 knew so young a body with so old a head. I
|
|
leave him to your gracious acceptance, whose trial
|
|
shall better publish his commendation.
|
|
|
|
You hear the learned Bellario what he writes.
|
|
|
|
[Enter Portia for Balthazar, disguised as a doctor of
|
|
laws, with Attendants.]
|
|
|
|
And here I take it is the doctor come.--
|
|
Give me your hand. Come you from old Bellario?
|
|
|
|
PORTIA, [as Balthazar]
|
|
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?
|
|
|
|
PORTIA, [as Balthazar]
|
|
I am informed throughly of the cause.
|
|
Which is the merchant here? And which the Jew?
|
|
|
|
DUKE
|
|
Antonio and old Shylock, both stand forth.
|
|
|
|
PORTIA, [as Balthazar]
|
|
Is your name Shylock?
|
|
|
|
SHYLOCK Shylock is my name.
|
|
|
|
PORTIA, [as Balthazar]
|
|
Of a strange nature is the suit you follow,
|
|
Yet in such rule that the Venetian law
|
|
Cannot impugn you as you do proceed.
|
|
[To Antonio.] You stand within his danger, do you
|
|
not?
|
|
|
|
ANTONIO
|
|
Ay, so he says.
|
|
|
|
PORTIA, [as Balthazar] Do you confess the bond?
|
|
|
|
ANTONIO
|
|
I do.
|
|
|
|
PORTIA, [as Balthazar] Then must the Jew be merciful.
|
|
|
|
SHYLOCK
|
|
On what compulsion must I? Tell me that.
|
|
|
|
PORTIA, [as Balthazar]
|
|
The quality of mercy is not strained.
|
|
It droppeth as the gentle rain from heaven
|
|
Upon the place beneath. It is twice blest:
|
|
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 shows 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 sceptered sway.
|
|
It is enthroned in the hearts of kings;
|
|
It is an attribute to God Himself;
|
|
And earthly power doth then show likest God's
|
|
When mercy seasons justice. Therefore, Jew,
|
|
Though justice be thy plea, consider this:
|
|
That in the course of justice none of us
|
|
Should see salvation. We do pray for mercy,
|
|
And that same 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 court of Venice
|
|
Must needs give sentence 'gainst the merchant
|
|
there.
|
|
|
|
SHYLOCK
|
|
My deeds upon my head! I crave the law,
|
|
The penalty and forfeit of my bond.
|
|
|
|
PORTIA, [as Balthazar]
|
|
Is he not able to discharge the money?
|
|
|
|
BASSANIO
|
|
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. [To the Duke.] 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.
|
|
|
|
PORTIA, [as Balthazar]
|
|
It must not be. There is no power in Venice
|
|
Can alter a decree established;
|
|
'Twill be recorded for a precedent
|
|
And many an error by the same example
|
|
Will rush into the state. It cannot be.
|
|
|
|
SHYLOCK
|
|
A Daniel come to judgment! Yea, a Daniel.
|
|
O wise young judge, how I do honor thee!
|
|
|
|
PORTIA, [as Balthazar]
|
|
I pray you let me look upon the bond.
|
|
|
|
SHYLOCK
|
|
Here 'tis, most reverend doctor, here it is.
|
|
[Handing Portia a paper.]
|
|
|
|
PORTIA, [as Balthazar]
|
|
Shylock, there's thrice thy money offered thee.
|
|
|
|
SHYLOCK
|
|
An oath, an oath, I have an oath in heaven!
|
|
Shall I lay perjury upon my soul?
|
|
No, not for Venice!
|
|
|
|
PORTIA, [as Balthazar] Why, this bond is forfeit,
|
|
And lawfully by this the Jew may claim
|
|
A pound of flesh, to be by him cut off
|
|
Nearest the merchant's heart.--Be merciful;
|
|
Take thrice thy money; bid me tear the bond.
|
|
|
|
SHYLOCK
|
|
When it is paid according to the tenor.
|
|
It doth appear you are a worthy judge;
|
|
You know the law; your exposition
|
|
Hath been most sound. I charge you by the law,
|
|
Whereof you are a well-deserving pillar,
|
|
Proceed to judgment. By my soul I swear
|
|
There is no power in the tongue of man
|
|
To alter me. I stay here on my bond.
|
|
|
|
ANTONIO
|
|
Most heartily I do beseech the court
|
|
To give the judgment.
|
|
|
|
PORTIA, [as Balthazar] Why, then, thus it is:
|
|
You must prepare your bosom for his knife--
|
|
|
|
SHYLOCK
|
|
O noble judge! O excellent young man!
|
|
|
|
PORTIA, [as Balthazar]
|
|
For the intent and purpose of the law
|
|
Hath full relation to the penalty,
|
|
Which here appeareth due upon the bond.
|
|
|
|
SHYLOCK
|
|
'Tis very true. O wise and upright judge,
|
|
How much more elder art thou than thy looks!
|
|
|
|
PORTIA, [as Balthazar, to Antonio]
|
|
Therefore lay bare your bosom--
|
|
|
|
SHYLOCK Ay, his breast!
|
|
So says the bond, doth it not, noble judge?
|
|
"Nearest his heart." Those are the very words.
|
|
|
|
PORTIA, [as Balthazar]
|
|
It is so.
|
|
Are there balance here to weigh the flesh?
|
|
|
|
SHYLOCK I have them ready.
|
|
|
|
PORTIA, [as Balthazar]
|
|
Have by some surgeon, Shylock, on your charge,
|
|
To stop his wounds, lest he do bleed to death.
|
|
|
|
SHYLOCK
|
|
Is it so nominated in the bond?
|
|
|
|
PORTIA, [as Balthazar]
|
|
It is not so expressed, but what of that?
|
|
'Twere good you do so much for charity.
|
|
|
|
SHYLOCK
|
|
I cannot find it. 'Tis not in the bond.
|
|
|
|
PORTIA, [as Balthazar]
|
|
You, merchant, have you anything to say?
|
|
|
|
ANTONIO
|
|
But little. I am armed and well prepared.--
|
|
Give me your hand, Bassanio. Fare you well.
|
|
Grieve not that I am fall'n to this for you,
|
|
For herein Fortune shows herself more kind
|
|
Than is her custom: it is still her use
|
|
To let the wretched man outlive his wealth,
|
|
To view with hollow eye and wrinkled brow
|
|
An age of poverty, from which ling'ring penance
|
|
Of such misery doth she cut me off.
|
|
Commend me to your honorable wife,
|
|
Tell her the process of Antonio's end,
|
|
Say how I loved you, speak me fair in death,
|
|
And when the tale is told, bid her be judge
|
|
Whether Bassanio had not once a love.
|
|
Repent but 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.
|
|
|
|
BASSANIO
|
|
Antonio, I am married to a wife
|
|
Which is as dear to me as life itself,
|
|
But life itself, my wife, and all the world
|
|
Are not with me esteemed above thy life.
|
|
I would lose all, ay, sacrifice them all
|
|
Here to this devil, to deliver you.
|
|
|
|
PORTIA, [aside]
|
|
Your wife would give you little thanks for that
|
|
If she were by to hear you make the offer.
|
|
|
|
GRATIANO
|
|
I have a wife who I protest I love.
|
|
I would she were in heaven, so she could
|
|
Entreat some power to change this currish Jew.
|
|
|
|
NERISSA, [aside]
|
|
'Tis well you offer it behind her back.
|
|
The wish would make else an unquiet house.
|
|
|
|
SHYLOCK
|
|
These be the Christian husbands! I have a
|
|
daughter--
|
|
Would any of the stock of Barabbas
|
|
Had been her husband, rather than a Christian!
|
|
We trifle time. I pray thee, pursue sentence.
|
|
|
|
PORTIA, [as Balthazar]
|
|
A pound of that same merchant's flesh is thine:
|
|
The court awards it, and the law doth give it.
|
|
|
|
SHYLOCK Most rightful judge!
|
|
|
|
PORTIA, [as Balthazar]
|
|
And you must cut this flesh from off his breast:
|
|
The law allows it, and the court awards it.
|
|
|
|
SHYLOCK
|
|
Most learned judge! A sentence!--Come, prepare.
|
|
|
|
PORTIA, [as Balthazar]
|
|
Tarry a little. There is something else.
|
|
This bond doth give thee here no jot of blood.
|
|
The words expressly are "a pound of flesh."
|
|
Take then 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.
|
|
|
|
GRATIANO
|
|
O upright judge!--Mark, Jew.--O learned judge!
|
|
|
|
SHYLOCK
|
|
Is that the law?
|
|
|
|
PORTIA, [as Balthazar] Thyself shalt see the act.
|
|
For, as thou urgest justice, be assured
|
|
Thou shalt have justice more than thou desir'st.
|
|
|
|
GRATIANO
|
|
O learned judge!--Mark, Jew, a learned judge!
|
|
|
|
SHYLOCK
|
|
I take this offer then. Pay the bond thrice
|
|
And let the Christian go.
|
|
|
|
BASSANIO Here is the money.
|
|
|
|
PORTIA, [as Balthazar]
|
|
Soft! The Jew shall have all justice. Soft, no haste!
|
|
He shall have nothing but the penalty.
|
|
|
|
GRATIANO
|
|
O Jew, an upright judge, a learned judge!
|
|
|
|
PORTIA, [as Balthazar]
|
|
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 but 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.
|
|
|
|
GRATIANO
|
|
A second Daniel! A Daniel, Jew!
|
|
Now, infidel, I have you on the hip.
|
|
|
|
PORTIA, [as Balthazar]
|
|
Why doth the Jew pause? Take thy forfeiture.
|
|
|
|
SHYLOCK
|
|
Give me my principal and let me go.
|
|
|
|
BASSANIO
|
|
I have it ready for thee. Here it is.
|
|
|
|
PORTIA, [as Balthazar]
|
|
He hath refused it in the open court.
|
|
He shall have merely justice and his bond.
|
|
|
|
GRATIANO
|
|
A Daniel still, say I! A second Daniel!--
|
|
I thank thee, Jew, for teaching me that word.
|
|
|
|
SHYLOCK
|
|
Shall I not have barely my principal?
|
|
|
|
PORTIA, [as Balthazar]
|
|
Thou shalt have nothing but the forfeiture
|
|
To be so taken at thy peril, Jew.
|
|
|
|
SHYLOCK
|
|
Why, then, the devil give him good of it!
|
|
I'll stay no longer question. [He begins to exit.]
|
|
|
|
PORTIA, [as Balthazar] Tarry, Jew.
|
|
The law hath yet another hold on you.
|
|
It is enacted in the laws of Venice,
|
|
If it be proved 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 one half his goods; the other half
|
|
Comes to the privy coffer of the state,
|
|
And the offender's life lies in the mercy
|
|
Of the Duke only, 'gainst all other voice.
|
|
In which predicament I say thou stand'st,
|
|
For it appears by manifest proceeding
|
|
That indirectly, and directly too,
|
|
Thou hast contrived against the very life
|
|
Of the defendant, and thou hast incurred
|
|
The danger formerly by me rehearsed.
|
|
Down, therefore, and beg mercy of the Duke.
|
|
|
|
GRATIANO
|
|
Beg that thou mayst have leave to hang thyself!
|
|
And yet, thy wealth being forfeit to the state,
|
|
Thou hast not left the value of a cord;
|
|
Therefore thou must be hanged 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 Antonio's;
|
|
The other half comes to the general state,
|
|
Which humbleness may drive unto a fine.
|
|
|
|
PORTIA, [as Balthazar]
|
|
Ay, for the state, not for Antonio.
|
|
|
|
SHYLOCK
|
|
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.
|
|
|
|
PORTIA, [as Balthazar]
|
|
What mercy can you render him, Antonio?
|
|
|
|
GRATIANO
|
|
A halter gratis, nothing else, for God's sake!
|
|
|
|
ANTONIO
|
|
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 favor
|
|
He presently become a Christian;
|
|
The other, that he do record a gift,
|
|
Here in the court, of all he dies possessed
|
|
Unto his son Lorenzo and his daughter.
|
|
|
|
DUKE
|
|
He shall do this, or else I do recant
|
|
The pardon that I late pronounced here.
|
|
|
|
PORTIA, [as Balthazar]
|
|
Art thou contented, Jew? What dost thou say?
|
|
|
|
SHYLOCK
|
|
I am content.
|
|
|
|
PORTIA, [as Balthazar] Clerk, draw a deed of gift.
|
|
|
|
SHYLOCK
|
|
I pray you give me leave to go from hence.
|
|
I am not well. Send the deed after me
|
|
And I will sign it.
|
|
|
|
DUKE Get thee gone, but do it.
|
|
|
|
GRATIANO
|
|
In christ'ning shalt thou have two godfathers.
|
|
Had I been judge, thou shouldst have had ten more,
|
|
To bring thee to the gallows, not to the font.
|
|
[Shylock exits.]
|
|
|
|
DUKE, [to Portia as Balthazar]
|
|
Sir, I entreat you home with me to dinner.
|
|
|
|
PORTIA, [as Balthazar]
|
|
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.--
|
|
Antonio, gratify this gentleman,
|
|
For in my mind you are much bound to him.
|
|
[The Duke and his train exit.]
|
|
|
|
BASSANIO, [to Portia as Balthazar]
|
|
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.
|
|
|
|
ANTONIO
|
|
And stand indebted, over and above,
|
|
In love and service to you evermore.
|
|
|
|
PORTIA, [as Balthazar]
|
|
He is well paid that is well satisfied,
|
|
And I, delivering you, am satisfied,
|
|
And therein do account myself well paid.
|
|
My mind was never yet more mercenary.
|
|
I pray you know me when we meet again.
|
|
I wish you well, and so I take my leave.
|
|
[She begins to exit.]
|
|
|
|
BASSANIO
|
|
Dear sir, of force I must attempt you further.
|
|
Take some remembrance of us as a tribute,
|
|
Not as fee. Grant me two things, I pray you:
|
|
Not to deny me, and to pardon me.
|
|
|
|
PORTIA, [as Balthazar]
|
|
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.
|
|
|
|
BASSANIO
|
|
This ring, good sir? Alas, it is a trifle.
|
|
I will not shame myself to give you this.
|
|
|
|
PORTIA, [as Balthazar]
|
|
I will have nothing else but only this.
|
|
And now methinks I have a mind to it.
|
|
|
|
BASSANIO
|
|
There's more depends on this than on the value.
|
|
The dearest ring in Venice will I give you,
|
|
And find it out by proclamation.
|
|
Only for this, I pray you pardon me.
|
|
|
|
PORTIA, [as Balthazar]
|
|
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 answered.
|
|
|
|
BASSANIO
|
|
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.
|
|
|
|
PORTIA, [as Balthazar]
|
|
That 'scuse serves many men to save their gifts.
|
|
And if your wife be not a madwoman,
|
|
And know how well I have deserved this ring,
|
|
She would not hold out enemy forever
|
|
For giving it to me. Well, peace be with you.
|
|
[Portia and Nerissa exit.]
|
|
|
|
ANTONIO
|
|
My Lord Bassanio, let him have the ring.
|
|
Let his deservings and my love withal
|
|
Be valued 'gainst your wife's commandment.
|
|
|
|
BASSANIO
|
|
Go, Gratiano, run and overtake him.
|
|
Give him the ring, and bring him if thou canst
|
|
Unto Antonio's house. Away, make haste.
|
|
[Gratiano exits.]
|
|
Come, you and I will thither presently,
|
|
And in the morning early will we both
|
|
Fly toward Belmont.--Come, Antonio.
|
|
[They exit.]
|
|
|
|
Scene 2
|
|
=======
|
|
[Enter Portia and Nerissa, still in disguise.]
|
|
|
|
|
|
PORTIA
|
|
Inquire the Jew's house out; give him this deed
|
|
And let him sign it. [She gives Nerissa a paper.] We'll
|
|
away tonight,
|
|
And be a day before our husbands home.
|
|
This deed will be well welcome to Lorenzo.
|
|
|
|
[Enter Gratiano.]
|
|
|
|
|
|
GRATIANO
|
|
Fair sir, you are well o'erta'en.
|
|
My Lord Bassanio, upon more advice,
|
|
Hath sent you here this ring, and doth entreat
|
|
Your company at dinner. [He gives her a ring.]
|
|
|
|
PORTIA, [as Balthazar] That cannot be.
|
|
His ring I do accept most thankfully,
|
|
And so I pray you tell him. Furthermore,
|
|
I pray you show my youth old Shylock's house.
|
|
|
|
GRATIANO
|
|
That will I do.
|
|
|
|
NERISSA, [as Clerk] Sir, I would speak with you.
|
|
[Aside to Portia.] I'll see if I can get my husband's
|
|
ring,
|
|
Which I did make him swear to keep forever.
|
|
|
|
PORTIA, [aside to Nerissa]
|
|
Thou mayst, I warrant! We shall have old swearing
|
|
That they did give the rings away to men;
|
|
But we'll outface them, and outswear them, too.--
|
|
Away, make haste! Thou know'st where I will tarry.
|
|
[She exits.]
|
|
|
|
NERISSA, [as Clerk]
|
|
Come, good sir, will you show me to this house?
|
|
[They exit.]
|
|
|
|
|
|
ACT 5
|
|
=====
|
|
|
|
Scene 1
|
|
=======
|
|
[Enter Lorenzo and Jessica.]
|
|
|
|
|
|
LORENZO
|
|
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
|
|
Troilus, methinks, mounted the Trojan walls
|
|
And sighed his soul toward the Grecian tents
|
|
Where Cressid lay that night.
|
|
|
|
JESSICA In such a night
|
|
Did Thisbe fearfully o'ertrip the dew
|
|
And saw the lion's shadow ere himself
|
|
And ran dismayed away.
|
|
|
|
LORENZO In such a night
|
|
Stood Dido with a willow in her hand
|
|
Upon the wild sea-banks, and waft her love
|
|
To come again to Carthage.
|
|
|
|
JESSICA In such a night
|
|
Medea gathered the enchanted herbs
|
|
That did renew old Aeson.
|
|
|
|
LORENZO In such a night
|
|
Did Jessica steal from the wealthy Jew,
|
|
And with an unthrift love did run from Venice
|
|
As far as Belmont.
|
|
|
|
JESSICA In such a night
|
|
Did young Lorenzo swear he loved her well,
|
|
Stealing her soul with many vows of faith,
|
|
And ne'er a true one.
|
|
|
|
LORENZO In such a night
|
|
Did pretty Jessica, like a little shrew,
|
|
Slander her love, and he forgave it her.
|
|
|
|
JESSICA
|
|
I would out-night you did nobody come,
|
|
But hark, I hear the footing of a man.
|
|
|
|
[Enter Stephano, a Messenger.]
|
|
|
|
|
|
LORENZO
|
|
Who comes so fast in silence of the night?
|
|
|
|
STEPHANO A friend.
|
|
|
|
LORENZO
|
|
A friend? What friend? Your name, I pray you,
|
|
friend.
|
|
|
|
STEPHANO
|
|
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.
|
|
|
|
LORENZO Who comes with her?
|
|
|
|
STEPHANO
|
|
None but a holy hermit and her maid.
|
|
I pray you, is my master yet returned?
|
|
|
|
LORENZO
|
|
He is not, nor we have not 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 Lancelet, the Clown.]
|
|
|
|
|
|
LANCELET Sola, sola! Wo ha, ho! Sola, sola!
|
|
|
|
LORENZO Who calls?
|
|
|
|
LANCELET Sola! Did you see Master Lorenzo? Master
|
|
Lorenzo, sola, sola!
|
|
|
|
LORENZO Leave holloaing, man! Here.
|
|
|
|
LANCELET Sola! Where, where?
|
|
|
|
LORENZO Here!
|
|
|
|
LANCELET Tell him there's a post come from my master
|
|
with his horn full of good news. My master will
|
|
be here ere morning, sweet soul. [Lancelet exits.]
|
|
|
|
LORENZO, [to Jessica]
|
|
Let's in, and there expect their coming.
|
|
And yet no matter; why should we go in?--
|
|
My friend Stephano, signify, I pray you,
|
|
Within the house, your mistress is at hand,
|
|
And bring your music forth into the air.
|
|
[Stephano exits.]
|
|
How sweet the moonlight sleeps upon this bank.
|
|
Here will we sit and let the sounds of music
|
|
Creep in our ears; soft stillness and the night
|
|
Become the touches of sweet harmony.
|
|
Sit, Jessica. Look how the floor of heaven
|
|
Is thick inlaid with patens of bright gold.
|
|
There's not the smallest orb which thou behold'st
|
|
But in his motion like an angel sings,
|
|
Still choiring to the young-eyed cherubins.
|
|
Such harmony is in immortal souls,
|
|
But whilst this muddy vesture of decay
|
|
Doth grossly close it in, we cannot hear it.
|
|
|
|
[Enter Stephano and musicians.]
|
|
|
|
Come, ho! and wake Diana with a hymn.
|
|
With sweetest touches pierce your mistress' ear,
|
|
And draw her home with music.
|
|
[Music plays.]
|
|
|
|
JESSICA
|
|
I am never merry when I hear sweet music.
|
|
|
|
LORENZO
|
|
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 music touch their ears,
|
|
You shall perceive them make a mutual stand,
|
|
Their savage eyes turned to a modest gaze
|
|
By the sweet power of music. Therefore the poet
|
|
Did feign that Orpheus drew trees, stones, and
|
|
floods,
|
|
Since naught so stockish, hard, and full of rage,
|
|
But music for the time doth change his nature.
|
|
The man that hath no music in himself,
|
|
Nor is not moved 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 music.
|
|
|
|
[Enter Portia and Nerissa.]
|
|
|
|
|
|
PORTIA
|
|
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.
|
|
|
|
NERISSA
|
|
When the moon shone we did not see the candle.
|
|
|
|
PORTIA
|
|
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 itself as doth an inland brook
|
|
Into the main of waters. Music, hark!
|
|
|
|
NERISSA
|
|
It is your music, madam, of the house.
|
|
|
|
PORTIA
|
|
Nothing is good, I see, without respect.
|
|
Methinks it sounds much sweeter than by day.
|
|
|
|
NERISSA
|
|
Silence bestows that virtue on it, madam.
|
|
|
|
PORTIA
|
|
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 seasoned are
|
|
To their right praise and true perfection!
|
|
Peace--how the moon sleeps with Endymion
|
|
And would not be awaked!
|
|
[Music ceases.]
|
|
|
|
LORENZO That is the voice,
|
|
Or I am much deceived, of Portia.
|
|
|
|
PORTIA
|
|
He knows me as the blind man knows the cuckoo,
|
|
By the bad voice.
|
|
|
|
LORENZO Dear lady, welcome home.
|
|
|
|
PORTIA
|
|
We have been praying for our husbands' welfare,
|
|
Which speed we hope the better for our words.
|
|
Are they returned?
|
|
|
|
LORENZO Madam, they are not yet,
|
|
But there is come a messenger before
|
|
To signify their coming.
|
|
|
|
PORTIA 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 trumpet sounds.]
|
|
|
|
LORENZO
|
|
Your husband is at hand. I hear his trumpet.
|
|
We are no tell-tales, madam, fear you not.
|
|
|
|
PORTIA
|
|
This night methinks is but the daylight sick;
|
|
It looks a little paler. 'Tis a day
|
|
Such as the day is when the sun is hid.
|
|
|
|
[Enter Bassanio, Antonio, Gratiano, and their followers.]
|
|
|
|
|
|
BASSANIO
|
|
We should hold day with the Antipodes
|
|
If you would walk in absence of the sun.
|
|
|
|
PORTIA
|
|
Let me give light, but let me not be light,
|
|
For a light wife doth make a heavy husband,
|
|
And never be Bassanio so for me.
|
|
But God sort all! You are welcome home, my lord.
|
|
[Gratiano and Nerissa talk aside.]
|
|
|
|
BASSANIO
|
|
I thank you, madam. Give welcome to my friend.
|
|
This is the man, this is Antonio,
|
|
To whom I am so infinitely bound.
|
|
|
|
PORTIA
|
|
You should in all sense be much bound to him,
|
|
For as I hear he was much bound for you.
|
|
|
|
ANTONIO
|
|
No more than I am well acquitted of.
|
|
|
|
PORTIA
|
|
Sir, you are very welcome to our house.
|
|
It must appear in other ways than words;
|
|
Therefore I scant this breathing courtesy.
|
|
|
|
GRATIANO, [to Nerissa]
|
|
By yonder moon I swear you do me wrong!
|
|
In faith, I gave it to the judge's clerk.
|
|
Would he were gelt that had it, for my part,
|
|
Since you do take it, love, so much at heart.
|
|
|
|
PORTIA
|
|
A quarrel ho, already! What's the matter?
|
|
|
|
GRATIANO
|
|
About a hoop of gold, a paltry ring
|
|
That she did give me, whose posy was
|
|
For all the world like cutler's poetry
|
|
Upon a knife, "Love me, and leave me not."
|
|
|
|
NERISSA
|
|
What talk you of the posy or the value?
|
|
You swore to me when I did give it you
|
|
That you would wear it till your hour of death,
|
|
And that it should lie with you in your grave.
|
|
Though not for me, yet for your vehement oaths,
|
|
You should have been respective and have kept it.
|
|
Gave it a judge's clerk! No, God's my judge,
|
|
The clerk will ne'er wear hair on 's face that had it.
|
|
|
|
GRATIANO
|
|
He will, an if he live to be a man.
|
|
|
|
NERISSA
|
|
Ay, if a woman live to be a man.
|
|
|
|
GRATIANO
|
|
Now, by this hand, I gave it to a youth,
|
|
A kind of boy, a little scrubbed boy,
|
|
No higher than thyself, the judge's clerk,
|
|
A prating boy that begged it as a fee.
|
|
I could not for my heart deny it him.
|
|
|
|
PORTIA
|
|
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
|
|
Never to part with it, and here he stands.
|
|
I dare be sworn for 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.
|
|
An 'twere to me I should be mad at it.
|
|
|
|
BASSANIO, [aside]
|
|
Why, I were best to cut my left hand off
|
|
And swear I lost the ring defending it.
|
|
|
|
GRATIANO
|
|
My Lord Bassanio gave his ring away
|
|
Unto the judge that begged it, and indeed
|
|
Deserved it, too. And then the boy, his clerk,
|
|
That took some pains in writing, he begged mine,
|
|
And neither man nor master would take aught
|
|
But the two rings.
|
|
|
|
PORTIA What ring gave you, my lord?
|
|
Not that, I hope, which you received of me.
|
|
|
|
BASSANIO
|
|
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.
|
|
|
|
PORTIA
|
|
Even so void is your false heart of truth.
|
|
By heaven, I will ne'er come in your bed
|
|
Until I see the ring!
|
|
|
|
NERISSA, [to Gratiano] Nor I in yours
|
|
Till I again see mine!
|
|
|
|
BASSANIO 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 naught would be accepted but the ring,
|
|
You would abate the strength of your displeasure.
|
|
|
|
PORTIA
|
|
If you had known the virtue of the ring,
|
|
Or half her worthiness that gave the ring,
|
|
Or your own honor to contain the ring,
|
|
You would not then have parted with the ring.
|
|
What man is there so much unreasonable,
|
|
If you had pleased 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!
|
|
|
|
BASSANIO
|
|
No, by my honor, madam, by my soul,
|
|
No woman had it, but a civil doctor,
|
|
Which did refuse three thousand ducats of me
|
|
And begged the ring, the which I did deny him
|
|
And suffered him to go displeased away,
|
|
Even he that had held up the very life
|
|
Of my dear friend. What should I say, sweet lady?
|
|
I was enforced to send it after him.
|
|
I was beset with shame and courtesy.
|
|
My honor would not let ingratitude
|
|
So much besmear it. Pardon me, good lady,
|
|
For by these blessed candles of the night,
|
|
Had you been there, I think you would have begged
|
|
The ring of me to give the worthy doctor.
|
|
|
|
PORTIA
|
|
Let not that doctor e'er come near my house!
|
|
Since he hath got the jewel that I loved,
|
|
And that which you did swear to keep for me,
|
|
I will become as liberal as you:
|
|
I'll not deny him anything I have,
|
|
No, not my body, nor my husband's bed.
|
|
Know him I shall, I am well sure of it.
|
|
Lie not a night from home. Watch me like Argus.
|
|
If you do not, if I be left alone,
|
|
Now by mine honor, which is yet mine own,
|
|
I'll have that doctor for my bedfellow.
|
|
|
|
NERISSA
|
|
And I his clerk. Therefore be well advised
|
|
How you do leave me to mine own protection.
|
|
|
|
GRATIANO
|
|
Well, do you so. Let not me take him, then,
|
|
For if I do, I'll mar the young clerk's pen.
|
|
|
|
ANTONIO
|
|
I am th' unhappy subject of these quarrels.
|
|
|
|
PORTIA
|
|
Sir, grieve not you. You are welcome
|
|
notwithstanding.
|
|
|
|
BASSANIO
|
|
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 myself--
|
|
|
|
PORTIA Mark you but that!
|
|
In both my eyes he doubly sees himself,
|
|
In each eye one. Swear by your double self,
|
|
And there's an oath of credit.
|
|
|
|
BASSANIO Nay, but hear me.
|
|
Pardon this fault, and by my soul I swear
|
|
I never more will break an oath with thee.
|
|
|
|
ANTONIO
|
|
I once did lend my body for his wealth,
|
|
Which but for him that had your husband's ring
|
|
Had quite miscarried. I dare be bound again,
|
|
My soul upon the forfeit, that your lord
|
|
Will never more break faith advisedly.
|
|
|
|
PORTIA
|
|
Then you shall be his surety. Give him this,
|
|
[Giving Antonio a ring.]
|
|
And bid him keep it better than the other.
|
|
|
|
ANTONIO
|
|
Here, Lord Bassanio, swear to keep this ring.
|
|
|
|
BASSANIO
|
|
By heaven, it is the same I gave the doctor!
|
|
|
|
PORTIA
|
|
I had it of him. Pardon me, Bassanio,
|
|
For by this ring, the doctor lay with me.
|
|
|
|
NERISSA
|
|
And pardon me, my gentle Gratiano,
|
|
For that same scrubbed boy, the doctor's clerk,
|
|
In lieu of this, last night did lie with me.
|
|
[She shows a ring.]
|
|
|
|
GRATIANO
|
|
Why, this is like the mending of highways
|
|
In summer, where the ways are fair enough!
|
|
What, are we cuckolds ere we have deserved it?
|
|
|
|
PORTIA
|
|
Speak not so grossly.--You are all amazed.
|
|
[She hands a paper to Bassanio.]
|
|
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 even but now returned. I have not yet
|
|
Entered my house.--Antonio, you are welcome,
|
|
And I have better news in store for you
|
|
Than you expect. Unseal this letter soon.
|
|
[Handing him a paper.]
|
|
There you shall find three of your argosies
|
|
Are richly come to harbor suddenly.
|
|
You shall not know by what strange accident
|
|
I chanced on this letter.
|
|
|
|
ANTONIO I am dumb.
|
|
|
|
BASSANIO
|
|
Were you the doctor and I knew you not?
|
|
|
|
GRATIANO
|
|
Were you the clerk that is to make me cuckold?
|
|
|
|
NERISSA
|
|
Ay, but the clerk that never means to do it,
|
|
Unless he live until he be a man.
|
|
|
|
BASSANIO, [to Portia]
|
|
Sweet doctor, you shall be my bedfellow.
|
|
When I am absent, then lie with my wife.
|
|
|
|
ANTONIO
|
|
Sweet lady, you have given me life and living;
|
|
For here I read for certain that my ships
|
|
Are safely come to road.
|
|
|
|
PORTIA How now, Lorenzo?
|
|
My clerk hath some good comforts too for you.
|
|
|
|
NERISSA
|
|
Ay, and I'll give them him without a fee.
|
|
[Handing him a paper.]
|
|
There do I give to you and Jessica,
|
|
From the rich Jew, a special deed of gift,
|
|
After his death, of all he dies possessed of.
|
|
|
|
LORENZO
|
|
Fair ladies, you drop manna in the way
|
|
Of starved people.
|
|
|
|
PORTIA It is almost morning,
|
|
And yet I am sure you are not satisfied
|
|
Of these events at full. Let us go in,
|
|
And charge us there upon inter'gatories,
|
|
And we will answer all things faithfully.
|
|
|
|
GRATIANO
|
|
Let it be so. The first inter'gatory
|
|
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.
|
|
[They exit.]
|