Datasets:
Tasks:
Text Generation
Modalities:
Text
Formats:
parquet
Languages:
English
Size:
< 1K
Tags:
shakespeare
License:
The Merchant of Venice | |
by William Shakespeare | |
Characters in the Play | |
====================== | |
PORTIA, an heiress of Belmont | |
NERISSA, her waiting-gentlewoman | |
Servants to Portia: | |
BALTHAZAR | |
STEPHANO | |
Suitors to Portia: | |
Prince of MOROCCO | |
Prince of ARRAGON | |
ANTONIO, a merchant of Venice | |
BASSANIO, a Venetian gentleman, suitor to Portia | |
Companions of Antonio and Bassanio: | |
SOLANIO | |
SALARINO | |
GRATIANO | |
LORENZO | |
LEONARDO, servant to Bassanio | |
SHYLOCK, a Jewish moneylender in Venice | |
JESSICA, his daughter | |
TUBAL, another Jewish moneylender | |
LANCELET GOBBO, servant to Shylock and later to Bassanio | |
OLD GOBBO, Lancelet's father | |
SALERIO, a messenger from Venice | |
Jailer | |
Duke of Venice | |
Magnificoes of Venice | |
Servants | |
Attendants and followers | |
Messenger | |
Musicians | |
ACT 1 | |
===== | |
Scene 1 | |
======= | |
[Enter Antonio, Salarino, and Solanio.] | |
ANTONIO | |
In sooth I know not why I am so sad. | |
It wearies me, you say it wearies you. | |
But how I caught it, found it, or came by it, | |
What stuff 'tis made of, whereof it is born, | |
I am to learn. | |
And such a want-wit sadness makes of me | |
That I have much ado to know myself. | |
SALARINO | |
Your mind is tossing on the ocean, | |
There where your argosies with portly sail | |
(Like signiors and rich burghers on the flood, | |
Or, as it were, the pageants of the sea) | |
Do overpeer the petty traffickers | |
That curtsy to them, do them reverence, | |
As they fly by them with their woven wings. | |
SOLANIO | |
Believe me, sir, had I such venture forth, | |
The better part of my affections would | |
Be with my hopes abroad. I should be still | |
Plucking the grass to know where sits the wind, | |
Piring in maps for ports and piers and roads; | |
And every object that might make me fear | |
Misfortune to my ventures, out of doubt | |
Would make me sad. | |
SALARINO My wind cooling my broth | |
Would blow me to an ague when I thought | |
What harm a wind too great might do at sea. | |
I should not see the sandy hourglass run | |
But I should think of shallows and of flats, | |
And see my wealthy Andrew docked in sand, | |
Vailing her high top lower than her ribs | |
To kiss her burial. Should I go to church | |
And see the holy edifice of stone | |
And not bethink me straight of dangerous rocks, | |
Which, touching but my gentle vessel's side, | |
Would scatter all her spices on the stream, | |
Enrobe the roaring waters with my silks, | |
And, in a word, but even now worth this | |
And now worth nothing? Shall I have the thought | |
To think on this, and shall I lack the thought | |
That such a thing bechanced would make me sad? | |
But tell not me: I know Antonio | |
Is sad to think upon his merchandise. | |
ANTONIO | |
Believe me, no. I thank my fortune for it, | |
My ventures are not in one bottom trusted, | |
Nor to one place; nor is my whole estate | |
Upon the fortune of this present year: | |
Therefore my merchandise makes me not sad. | |
SOLANIO | |
Why then you are in love. | |
ANTONIO Fie, fie! | |
SOLANIO | |
Not in love neither? Then let us say you are sad | |
Because you are not merry; and 'twere as easy | |
For you to laugh and leap, and say you are merry | |
Because you are not sad. Now, by two-headed | |
Janus, | |
Nature hath framed strange fellows in her time: | |
Some that will evermore peep through their eyes | |
And laugh like parrots at a bagpiper, | |
And other of such vinegar aspect | |
That they'll not show their teeth in way of smile | |
Though Nestor swear the jest be laughable. | |
[Enter Bassanio, Lorenzo, and Gratiano.] | |
Here comes Bassanio, your most noble kinsman, | |
Gratiano, and Lorenzo. Fare you well. | |
We leave you now with better company. | |
SALARINO | |
I would have stayed till I had made you merry, | |
If worthier friends had not prevented me. | |
ANTONIO | |
Your worth is very dear in my regard. | |
I take it your own business calls on you, | |
And you embrace th' occasion to depart. | |
SALARINO | |
Good morrow, my good lords. | |
BASSANIO | |
Good signiors both, when shall we laugh? Say, | |
when? | |
You grow exceeding strange. Must it be so? | |
SALARINO | |
We'll make our leisures to attend on yours. | |
[Salarino and Solanio exit.] | |
LORENZO | |
My Lord Bassanio, since you have found Antonio, | |
We two will leave you. But at dinner time | |
I pray you have in mind where we must meet. | |
BASSANIO | |
I will not fail you. | |
GRATIANO | |
You look not well, Signior Antonio. | |
You have too much respect upon the world. | |
They lose it that do buy it with much care. | |
Believe me, you are marvelously changed. | |
ANTONIO | |
I hold the world but as the world, Gratiano, | |
A stage where every man must play a part, | |
And mine a sad one. | |
GRATIANO Let me play the fool. | |
With mirth and laughter let old wrinkles come, | |
And let my liver rather heat with wine | |
Than my heart cool with mortifying groans. | |
Why should a man whose blood is warm within | |
Sit like his grandsire cut in alabaster? | |
Sleep when he wakes? And creep into the jaundice | |
By being peevish? I tell thee what, Antonio | |
(I love thee, and 'tis my love that speaks): | |
There are a sort of men whose visages | |
Do cream and mantle like a standing pond | |
And do a willful stillness entertain | |
With purpose to be dressed in an opinion | |
Of wisdom, gravity, profound conceit, | |
As who should say "I am Sir Oracle, | |
And when I ope my lips, let no dog bark." | |
O my Antonio, I do know of these | |
That therefore only are reputed wise | |
For saying nothing, when, I am very sure, | |
If they should speak, would almost damn those ears | |
Which, hearing them, would call their brothers | |
fools. | |
I'll tell thee more of this another time. | |
But fish not with this melancholy bait | |
For this fool gudgeon, this opinion.-- | |
Come, good Lorenzo.--Fare you well a while. | |
I'll end my exhortation after dinner. | |
LORENZO | |
Well, we will leave you then till dinner time. | |
I must be one of these same dumb wise men, | |
For Gratiano never lets me speak. | |
GRATIANO | |
Well, keep me company but two years more, | |
Thou shalt not know the sound of thine own | |
tongue. | |
ANTONIO | |
Fare you well. I'll grow a talker for this gear. | |
GRATIANO | |
Thanks, i' faith, for silence is only commendable | |
In a neat's tongue dried and a maid not vendible. | |
[Gratiano and Lorenzo exit.] | |
ANTONIO Is that anything now? | |
BASSANIO Gratiano speaks an infinite deal of nothing, | |
more than any man in all Venice. His reasons are as | |
two grains of wheat hid in two bushels of chaff: you | |
shall seek all day ere you find them, and when you | |
have them, they are not worth the search. | |
ANTONIO | |
Well, tell me now what lady is the same | |
To whom you swore a secret pilgrimage, | |
That you today promised to tell me of? | |
BASSANIO | |
'Tis not unknown to you, Antonio, | |
How much I have disabled mine estate | |
By something showing a more swelling port | |
Than my faint means would grant continuance. | |
Nor do I now make moan to be abridged | |
From such a noble rate. But my chief care | |
Is to come fairly off from the great debts | |
Wherein my time, something too prodigal, | |
Hath left me gaged. To you, Antonio, | |
I owe the most in money and in love, | |
And from your love I have a warranty | |
To unburden all my plots and purposes | |
How to get clear of all the debts I owe. | |
ANTONIO | |
I pray you, good Bassanio, let me know it; | |
And if it stand, as you yourself still do, | |
Within the eye of honor, be assured | |
My purse, my person, my extremest means | |
Lie all unlocked to your occasions. | |
BASSANIO | |
In my school days, when I had lost one shaft, | |
I shot his fellow of the selfsame flight | |
The selfsame way with more advised watch | |
To find the other forth; and by adventuring both | |
I oft found both. I urge this childhood proof | |
Because what follows is pure innocence. | |
I owe you much, and, like a willful youth, | |
That which I owe is lost. But if you please | |
To shoot another arrow that self way | |
Which you did shoot the first, I do not doubt, | |
As I will watch the aim, or to find both | |
Or bring your latter hazard back again, | |
And thankfully rest debtor for the first. | |
ANTONIO | |
You know me well, and herein spend but time | |
To wind about my love with circumstance; | |
And out of doubt you do me now more wrong | |
In making question of my uttermost | |
Than if you had made waste of all I have. | |
Then do but say to me what I should do | |
That in your knowledge may by me be done, | |
And I am prest unto it. Therefore speak. | |
BASSANIO | |
In Belmont is a lady richly left, | |
And she is fair, and, fairer than that word, | |
Of wondrous virtues. Sometimes from her eyes | |
I did receive fair speechless messages. | |
Her name is Portia, nothing undervalued | |
To Cato's daughter, Brutus' Portia. | |
Nor is the wide world ignorant of her worth, | |
For the four winds blow in from every coast | |
Renowned suitors, and her sunny locks | |
Hang on her temples like a golden fleece, | |
Which makes her seat of Belmont Colchos' strond, | |
And many Jasons come in quest of her. | |
O my Antonio, had I but the means | |
To hold a rival place with one of them, | |
I have a mind presages me such thrift | |
That I should questionless be fortunate! | |
ANTONIO | |
Thou know'st that all my fortunes are at sea; | |
Neither have I money nor commodity | |
To raise a present sum. Therefore go forth: | |
Try what my credit can in Venice do; | |
That shall be racked even to the uttermost | |
To furnish thee to Belmont to fair Portia. | |
Go presently inquire, and so will I, | |
Where money is, and I no question make | |
To have it of my trust, or for my sake. | |
[They exit.] | |
Scene 2 | |
======= | |
[Enter Portia with her waiting woman Nerissa.] | |
PORTIA By my troth, Nerissa, my little body is aweary | |
of this great world. | |
NERISSA You would be, sweet madam, if your miseries | |
were in the same abundance as your good fortunes | |
are. And yet, for aught I see, they are as sick that | |
surfeit with too much as they that starve with | |
nothing. It is no mean happiness, therefore, to be | |
seated in the mean. Superfluity comes sooner by | |
white hairs, but competency lives longer. | |
PORTIA Good sentences, and well pronounced. | |
NERISSA They would be better if well followed. | |
PORTIA If to do were as easy as to know what were | |
good to do, chapels had been churches, and poor | |
men's cottages princes' palaces. It is a good divine | |
that follows his own instructions. I can easier teach | |
twenty what were good to be done than to be one of | |
the twenty to follow mine own teaching. The brain | |
may devise laws for the blood, but a hot temper | |
leaps o'er a cold decree: such a hare is madness the | |
youth, to skip o'er the meshes of good counsel the | |
cripple. But this reasoning is not in the fashion to | |
choose me a husband. O, me, the word "choose"! I | |
may neither choose who I would nor refuse who I | |
dislike. So is the will of a living daughter curbed by | |
the will of a dead father. Is it not hard, Nerissa, that | |
I cannot choose one, nor refuse none? | |
NERISSA Your father was ever virtuous, and holy men | |
at their death have good inspirations. Therefore the | |
lottery that he hath devised in these three chests of | |
gold, silver, and lead, whereof who chooses his | |
meaning chooses you, will no doubt never be | |
chosen by any rightly but one who you shall rightly | |
love. But what warmth is there in your affection | |
towards any of these princely suitors that are already | |
come? | |
PORTIA I pray thee, overname them, and as thou | |
namest them, I will describe them, and according | |
to my description level at my affection. | |
NERISSA First, there is the Neapolitan prince. | |
PORTIA Ay, that's a colt indeed, for he doth nothing but | |
talk of his horse, and he makes it a great appropriation | |
to his own good parts that he can shoe him | |
himself. I am much afeard my lady his mother | |
played false with a smith. | |
NERISSA Then is there the County Palatine. | |
PORTIA He doth nothing but frown, as who should say | |
"An you will not have me, choose." He hears | |
merry tales and smiles not. I fear he will prove the | |
weeping philosopher when he grows old, being so | |
full of unmannerly sadness in his youth. I had | |
rather be married to a death's-head with a bone in | |
his mouth than to either of these. God defend me | |
from these two! | |
NERISSA How say you by the French lord, Monsieur Le | |
Bon? | |
PORTIA God made him, and therefore let him pass for | |
a man. In truth, I know it is a sin to be a mocker, | |
but he!--why, he hath a horse better than the | |
Neapolitan's, a better bad habit of frowning than | |
the Count Palatine. He is every man in no man. If a | |
throstle sing, he falls straight a-cap'ring. He will | |
fence with his own shadow. If I should marry him, I | |
should marry twenty husbands! If he would despise | |
me, I would forgive him, for if he love me to | |
madness, I shall never requite him. | |
NERISSA What say you then to Falconbridge, the young | |
baron of England? | |
PORTIA You know I say nothing to him, for he understands | |
not me, nor I him. He hath neither Latin, | |
French, nor Italian; and you will come into the | |
court and swear that I have a poor pennyworth in | |
the English. He is a proper man's picture, but alas, | |
who can converse with a dumb show? How oddly | |
he is suited! I think he bought his doublet in Italy, | |
his round hose in France, his bonnet in Germany, | |
and his behavior everywhere. | |
NERISSA What think you of the Scottish lord, his | |
neighbor? | |
PORTIA That he hath a neighborly charity in him, for | |
he borrowed a box of the ear of the Englishman, | |
and swore he would pay him again when he was | |
able. I think the Frenchman became his surety and | |
sealed under for another. | |
NERISSA How like you the young German, the Duke of | |
Saxony's nephew? | |
PORTIA Very vilely in the morning, when he is sober, | |
and most vilely in the afternoon, when he is drunk. | |
When he is best he is a little worse than a man, and | |
when he is worst he is little better than a beast. An | |
the worst fall that ever fell, I hope I shall make shift | |
to go without him. | |
NERISSA If he should offer to choose, and choose the | |
right casket, you should refuse to perform your | |
father's will if you should refuse to accept him. | |
PORTIA Therefore, for fear of the worst, I pray thee set | |
a deep glass of Rhenish wine on the contrary | |
casket, for if the devil be within and that temptation | |
without, I know he will choose it. I will do | |
anything, Nerissa, ere I will be married to a sponge. | |
NERISSA You need not fear, lady, the having any of | |
these lords. They have acquainted me with their | |
determinations, which is indeed to return to their | |
home and to trouble you with no more suit, unless | |
you may be won by some other sort than your | |
father's imposition depending on the caskets. | |
PORTIA If I live to be as old as Sibylla, I will die as | |
chaste as Diana unless I be obtained by the manner | |
of my father's will. I am glad this parcel of wooers | |
are so reasonable, for there is not one among them | |
but I dote on his very absence. And I pray God | |
grant them a fair departure! | |
NERISSA Do you not remember, lady, in your father's | |
time, a Venetian, a scholar and a soldier, that came | |
hither in company of the Marquess of Montferrat? | |
PORTIA Yes, yes, it was Bassanio--as I think so was he | |
called. | |
NERISSA True, madam. He, of all the men that ever my | |
foolish eyes looked upon, was the best deserving a | |
fair lady. | |
PORTIA I remember him well, and I remember him | |
worthy of thy praise. | |
[Enter a Servingman.] | |
How now, what news? | |
SERVINGMAN The four strangers seek for you, madam, | |
to take their leave. And there is a forerunner come | |
from a fifth, the Prince of Morocco, who brings | |
word the Prince his master will be here tonight. | |
PORTIA If I could bid the fifth welcome with so good | |
heart as I can bid the other four farewell, I should | |
be glad of his approach. If he have the condition of | |
a saint and the complexion of a devil, I had rather | |
he should shrive me than wive me. | |
Come, Nerissa. [To Servingman.] Sirrah, go before.-- | |
Whiles we shut the gate upon one wooer, another | |
knocks at the door. | |
[They exit.] | |
Scene 3 | |
======= | |
[Enter Bassanio with Shylock the Jew.] | |
SHYLOCK Three thousand ducats, well. | |
BASSANIO Ay, sir, for three months. | |
SHYLOCK For three months, well. | |
BASSANIO For the which, as I told you, Antonio shall | |
be bound. | |
SHYLOCK Antonio shall become bound, well. | |
BASSANIO May you stead me? Will you pleasure me? | |
Shall I know your answer? | |
SHYLOCK Three thousand ducats for three months, | |
and Antonio bound. | |
BASSANIO Your answer to that? | |
SHYLOCK Antonio is a good man. | |
BASSANIO Have you heard any imputation to the | |
contrary? | |
SHYLOCK Ho, no, no, no, no! My meaning in saying he | |
is a good man is to have you understand me that he | |
is sufficient. Yet his means are in supposition: he | |
hath an argosy bound to Tripolis, another to the | |
Indies. I understand, moreover, upon the Rialto, | |
he hath a third at Mexico, a fourth for England, and | |
other ventures he hath squandered abroad. But | |
ships are but boards, sailors but men; there be land | |
rats and water rats, water thieves and land | |
thieves--I mean pirates--and then there is the | |
peril of waters, winds, and rocks. The man is, | |
notwithstanding, sufficient. Three thousand ducats. | |
I think I may take his bond. | |
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.] |