The Merchant of Venice

DRAMATIS PERSONAE 
:THE DUKE OF VENICE
:THE PRINCE OF MOROCCO, suitor to Portia
:THE PRINCE OF ARRAGON, suitor to Portia
:ANTONIO, a merchant of Venice
:BASSANIO, his friend
:SALANIO, friend to Antonio and Bassanio
:SALARINO, friend to Antonio and Bassanio
:GRATIANO, friend to Antonio and Bassanio
:LORENZO, in love with Jessica
:SHYLOCK, a rich Jew
:TUBAL, a Jew, his friend
:LAUNCELOT GOBBO, a clown, servant to Shylock
:OLD GOBBO, father to Launcelot
:LEONARDO, servant to Bassanio
:BALTHASAR, servant to Portia
:STEPHANO, servant to Portia
:PORTIA, a rich heiress
:NERISSA, her waiting-maid
:JESSICA, daughter to Shylock 
:Magnificoes of Venice, Officers of the Court of Justice, Gaoler, Servants to Portia, and other Attendants
SCENE: Partly at Venice, and partly at Belmont, the seat of Portia, on the Continent.
== ACT 1. ==
=== SCENE I. Venice. A street ===
[Enter ANTONIO, SALARINO, and SALANIO]
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.
SALANIO.
:Believe me, sir, had I such venture forth,
:The better part of my affections would
:Be with my hopes abroad. I should be still
:Plucking the grass to know where sits the wind,
:Peering in maps for ports, and 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 hour-glass run
:But I should think of shallows and of flats,
:And see my wealthy Andrew dock’d in sand,
:Vailing her high top lower than her ribs
:To kiss her burial. Should I go to church
:And see the holy edifice of stone,
:And not bethink me straight of dangerous rocks,
:Which, touching but my gentle vessel’s side,
:Would scatter all her spices on the stream,
:Enrobe the roaring waters with my silks,
:And, in a word, but even now worth this,
:And now worth nothing? Shall I have the thought
:To think on this, and shall I lack the thought
:That such a thing bechanc’d would make me sad?
:But tell not me; I know 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.
SALARINO.
:Why, then you are in love.
ANTONIO.
:Fie, fie!
SALARINO.
: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 fram’d strange fellows in her time:
:Some that will evermore peep through their eyes,
:And laugh like parrots at a bag-piper;
:And other of such vinegar aspect
:That they’ll not show their teeth in way of smile
:Though Nestor swear the jest be laughable.
[Enter BASSANIO, LORENZO, and GRATIANO.]
SALANIO.
:Here comes Bassanio, your most noble kinsman,
:Gratiano, and Lorenzo. Fare ye well;
:We leave you now with better company.
SALARINO.
:I would have stay’d 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.
[Exeunt SALARINO and SALANIO.]
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 marvellously chang’d.
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 wilful stillness entertain,
:With purpose to be dress’d 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 ye well awhile;
: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 moe,
: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.
[Exeunt GRATIANO and LORENZO.]
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 to-day promis’d 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 abridg’d
:From such a noble rate; but my chief care
:Is to come fairly off from the great debts
:Wherein my time, something too prodigal,
:Hath left me gag’d. To you, 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 honour, be assur’d
:My purse, my person, my extremest means,
:Lie all unlock’d to your occasions.
BASSANIO.
:In my school-days, when I had lost one shaft,
:I shot his fellow of the self-same flight
:The self-same way, with more advised watch,
:To find the other forth; and by adventuring both
:I oft found both. I urge this childhood proof,
:Because what follows is pure innocence.
:I owe you much; and, like a wilful youth,
:That which I owe is lost; but if you please
:To shoot another arrow that self way
:Which you did shoot the first, I do not doubt,
:As I will watch the aim, or to find both,
:Or bring your latter hazard back again
:And thankfully rest debtor for the first.
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 undervalu’d
:To Cato’s daughter, Brutus’ Portia:
:Nor is the wide world ignorant of her worth,
:For the four winds blow in from every coast
:Renowned 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 rack’d, 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.
[Exeunt]
=== SCENE 2. Belmont. A room in PORTIA’S house ===
[Enter PORTIA and 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 come 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 curb’d 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 lott’ry 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 over-name 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 play’d 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-capering; 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 behaviour everywhere.
NERISSA.
:What think you of the Scottish lord, his neighbour?
PORTIA.
:That he hath a neighbourly 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 Marquis
: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 SERVANT.]
:How now! what news?
SERVANT.
: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
:to-night.
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. Sirrah, go before.
:Whiles we shut the gate upon one wooer, another knocks at the
:door.
[Exeunt]
=== SCENE 3. Venice. A public place ===
[Enter BASSANIO and SHYLOCK.]
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, land-thieves and
:water-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 possess’d
:How much ye would?
SHYLOCK.
:Ay, ay, three thousand ducats.
ANTONIO.
:And for three months.
SHYLOCK.
:I had forgot; three months; you told me so.
:Well then, your bond; and, let me see. But hear you,
:Methought you said you neither lend nor borrow
:Upon advantage.
ANTONIO.
:I do never use it.
SHYLOCK.
:When Jacob graz’d 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 compromis’d
:That all the eanlings which were streak’d 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 skilful shepherd peel’d me certain wands,
:And, in the doing of the deed of kind,
:He stuck them up before the fulsome ewes,
:Who, then conceiving, did in eaning time
:Fall parti-colour’d lambs, and those were Jacob’s.
:This was a way to thrive, and he was blest;
:And thrift is blessing, if men steal it not.
ANTONIO.
:This was a venture, sir, that Jacob serv’d for;
:A thing not in his power to bring to pass,
:But sway’d and fashion’d by the hand of 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.
: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, cut-throat 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 spit on me on Wednesday last;
:You spurn’d me such a day; another time
:You call’d 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 stain’d 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
:Express’d in the condition, let the forfeit
:Be nominated for an equal pound
:Of your fair flesh, to be cut off and taken
:In what part of your body 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 favour, 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.
[Exit SHYLOCK]
:This 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.
[Exeunt]
== ACT 2. ==
=== SCENE I. Belmont. A room in PORTIA’s house. ===
[Flourish of cornets. Enter the PRINCE of MOROCCO, and his Followers; PORTIA, NERISSA, and Others of her train.]
PRINCE OF Morocco.
:Mislike me not for my complexion,
:The shadow’d livery of the burnish’d sun,
:To whom I am a neighbour, 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 fear’d the valiant; by my love, I swear
:The best-regarded virgins of our clime
:Have lov’d it too. I would not change this hue,
:Except to steal your thoughts, my gentle queen.
PORTIA.
:In terms of choice I am not solely led
:By nice direction of a maiden’s eyes;
:Besides, the lottery of my destiny
:Bars me the right of voluntary choosing;
:But, if my father had not scanted me
:And hedg’d 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 look’d on yet
:For my affection.
PRINCE OF 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 Lichas 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 advis’d.
PRINCE OF MOROCCO.
:Nor will not; come, bring me unto my chance.
PORTIA.
:First, forward to the temple: after dinner
:Your hazard shall be made.
PRINCE OF MOROCCO.
:Good fortune then!
:To make me blest or cursed’st among men!
[Cornets, and exeunt.]
=== SCENE 2. Venice. A street ===
[Enter LAUNCELOT GOBBO.]
LAUNCELOT.
: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, Launcelot Gobbo, good Launcelot’ or ‘good Gobbo’ or
:‘good Launcelot Gobbo, use your legs, take the start, run away.’
:My conscience says ‘No; take heed, honest Launcelot, take heed,
:honest Gobbo’ or, as aforesaid, ‘honest Launcelot Gobbo, do not
:run; scorn running with thy heels.’ Well, the most courageous
:fiend bids me pack. ‘Via!’ 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 Launcelot, 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 ‘Launcelot, 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 incarnal; 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?
LAUNCELOT.
:[Aside] O heavens! This is my true-begotten father, who, being
:more
:than sand-blind, high-gravel blind, knows me not: I will try
:confusions with him.
GOBBO.
:Master young gentleman, I pray you, which is the way to Master
:Jew’s?
LAUNCELOT.
: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 Launcelot, that dwells with him, dwell with him or
:no?
LAUNCELOT.
:Talk you of young Master Launcelot? [Aside] Mark me
:now; now will I raise the waters. Talk you of young Master
:Launcelot?
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.
LAUNCELOT.
:Well, let his father be what ’a will, we talk of young
:Master Launcelot.
GOBBO.
:Your worship’s friend, and Launcelot, sir.
LAUNCELOT.
:But I pray you, ergo, old man, ergo, I beseech you, talk
:you of young Master Launcelot?
GOBBO.
:Of Launcelot, an’t please your mastership.
LAUNCELOT.
:Ergo, Master Launcelot. Talk not of Master Launcelot,
: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.
LAUNCELOT.
: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?
LAUNCELOT.
:Do you not know me, father?
GOBBO.
:Alack, sir, I am sand-blind; I know you not.
LAUNCELOT.
:Nay, indeed, if you had your eyes, you might fail of the
:knowing me: it is a wise father that knows his own child. Well,
:old man, I will tell you news of your son. Give me your blessing;
:truth will come to light; murder cannot be hid long; a man’s son
:may, but in the end truth will out.
GOBBO.
:Pray you, sir, stand up; I am sure you are not Launcelot, my boy.
LAUNCELOT.
:Pray you, let’s have no more fooling about it, but give
:me your blessing; I am Launcelot, your boy that was, your son
:that is, your child that shall be.
GOBBO.
:I cannot think you are my son.
LAUNCELOT.
:I know not what I shall think of that; but I am Launcelot, the
:Jew’s man, and I am sure Margery your wife is my mother.
GOBBO.
:Her name is Margery, indeed: I’ll be sworn, if thou be
:Launcelot, thou art mine own flesh and blood. Lord worshipped
:might he be, what a beard hast thou got! Thou hast got more hair
:on thy chin than Dobbin my thill-horse has on his tail.
LAUNCELOT.
:It should seem, then, that Dobbin’s tail grows backward;
:I am sure he had more hair on his tail than I have on my face
:when I last saw him.
GOBBO.
:Lord! how art thou changed! How dost thou and thy master
:agree? I have brought him a present. How ’gree you now?
LAUNCELOT.
: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, with and other Followers.]
BASSANIO.
: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.
[Exit a SERVANT]
LAUNCELOT.
:To him, father.
GOBBO.
:God bless your worship!
BASSANIO.
:Gramercy; wouldst thou aught with me?
GOBBO.
:Here’s my son, sir, a poor boy—
LAUNCELOT.
: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—
LAUNCELOT.
: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—
LAUNCELOT.
: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—
LAUNCELOT.
: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?
LAUNCELOT.
:Serve you, sir.
GOBBO.
:That is the very defect of the matter, sir.
BASSANIO.
:I know thee well; thou hast obtain’d thy suit.
:Shylock thy master spoke with me this day,
:And hath preferr’d thee, if it be preferment
:To leave a rich Jew’s service to become
:The follower of so poor a gentleman.
LAUNCELOT.
: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 a SERVANT] Give him a livery
:More guarded than his fellows’; see it done.
LAUNCELOT.
:Father, in. I cannot get a service, no! I have ne’er a
:tongue in my head! [Looking on his palm] Well; 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;
:a’leven widows and nine maids is a simple coming-in for one man.
:And then to scape drowning thrice, and to be in peril of my life
:with the edge of a feather-bed; here are simple ’scapes. Well, if
:Fortune be a woman, she’s a good wench for this gear. Father,
:come; I’ll take my leave of the Jew in the twinkling of an eye.
[Exeunt LAUNCELOT and OLD GOBBO.]
BASSANIO.
:I pray thee, good Leonardo, think on this:
:These things being bought and orderly bestow’d,
:Return in haste, for I do feast to-night
:My best esteem’d acquaintance; hie thee, go.
LEONARDO.
:My best endeavours shall be done herein.
[Enter GRATIANO.]
GRATIANO.
:Where’s your master?
LEONARDO.
:Yonder, sir, he walks.
[Exit.]
GRATIANO.
:Signior Bassanio!—
BASSANIO.
:Gratiano!
GRATIANO.
:I have suit to you.
BASSANIO.
:You have obtain’d 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 behaviour
:I be misconstrued 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 to-night; you shall not gauge me
:By what we do to-night.
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.
[Exeunt.]
=== SCENE 3. The same. A room in SHYLOCK’s house. ===
[Enter JESSICA and LAUNCELOT.]
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, Launcelot, 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.
LAUNCELOT.
: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 Launcelot.
[Exit LAUNCELOT]
:Alack, what heinous sin is it in me
:To be asham’d to be my father’s child!
:But though I am a daughter to his blood,
:I am not to his manners. O Lorenzo!
:If thou keep promise, I shall end this strife,
:Become a Christian and thy loving wife.
[Exit]
=== SCENE 4. The same. A street ===
[Enter GRATIANO, LORENZO, SALARINO, and SALANIO.]
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 torch-bearers.
SALANIO.
:’Tis vile, unless it may be quaintly order’d,
:And better in my mind not undertook.
LORENZO.
:’Tis now but four o’clock; we have two hours
:To furnish us.
[Enter LAUNCELOT, With a letter.]
:Friend Launcelot, what’s the news?
LAUNCELOT.
:An it shall please you to break up this, it shall seem
:to signify.
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.
LAUNCELOT.
:By your leave, sir.
LORENZO.
:Whither goest thou?
LAUNCELOT.
:Marry, sir, to bid my old master, the Jew, to sup
:to-night with my new master, the Christian.
LORENZO.
:Hold, here, take this. Tell gentle Jessica
:I will not fail her; speak it privately.
:Go, gentlemen,
[Exit LAUNCELOT]
:Will you prepare you for this masque to-night?
:I am provided of a torch-bearer.
SALARINO.
:Ay, marry, I’ll be gone about it straight.
SALANIO.
:And so will I.
LORENZO.
:Meet me and Gratiano
:At Gratiano’s lodging some hour hence.
SALARINO.
:’Tis good we do so.
[Exeunt SALARINO and SALANIO.]
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 furnish’d 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;
:Fair Jessica shall be my torch-bearer.
[Exeunt]
=== SCENE 5. The same. Before SHYLOCK’S house ===
[Enter SHYLOCK and LAUNCELOT.]
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!
LAUNCELOT.
:Why, Jessica!
SHYLOCK.
:Who bids thee call? I do not bid thee call.
LAUNCELOT.
: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 to-night.
LAUNCELOT.
:I beseech you, sir, go: my young master doth expect your
:reproach.
SHYLOCK.
:So do I his.
LAUNCELOT.
: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’ the morning, falling out that year on Ash-Wednesday was four
:year in the 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-neck’d fife,
:Clamber not you up to the casements then,
:Nor thrust your head into the public street
:To gaze on Christian fools with varnish’d faces;
:But stop my house’s ears- I mean my casements;
:Let not the sound of shallow fopp’ry enter
:My sober house. By Jacob’s staff, I swear
:I have no mind of feasting forth to-night;
:But I will go. Go you before me, sirrah;
:Say I will come.
LAUNCELOT.
:I will go before, sir. Mistress, look out at window for all this;
: There will come a Christian by
: Will be worth a Jewess’ eye.
[Exit LAUNCELOT.]
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 wild-cat; drones hive not with me,
:Therefore I part with him; and part with him
:To one that I would have him help to waste
:His borrow’d purse. Well, Jessica, go in;
:Perhaps I will return immediately:
:Do as I bid you, shut doors after you:
:‘Fast bind, fast find,’
:A proverb never stale in thrifty mind.
[Exit.]
JESSICA.
:Farewell; and if my fortune be not crost,
:I have a father, you a daughter, lost.
[Exit.]
=== SCENE 6. The same. ===
[Enter GRATIANO and SALARINO, masqued.]
GRATIANO.
:This is the pent-house under which Lorenzo
:Desir’d us to make stand.
SALARINO.
:His hour is almost past.
GRATIANO.
:And it is marvel he out-dwells 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 enjoy’d.
:How like a younker or a prodigal
:The scarfed bark puts from her native bay,
:Hugg’d and embraced by the strumpet wind!
:How like the prodigal doth she return,
:With over-weather’d ribs and ragged sails,
:Lean, rent, and beggar’d by the strumpet wind!
SALARINO.
:Here comes Lorenzo; more of this hereafter.
[Enter LORENZO.]
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, in boy’s clothes.]
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 asham’d of my exchange;
:But love is blind, and lovers cannot see
:The pretty follies that themselves commit,
:For, if they could, Cupid himself would blush
:To see me thus transformed to a boy.
LORENZO.
:Descend, for you must be my torch-bearer.
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 obscur’d.
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 stay’d for at Bassanio’s feast.
JESSICA.
:I will make fast the doors, and gild myself
:With some moe ducats, and be with you straight.
[Exit above.]
GRATIANO.
:Now, by my hood, a Gentile, 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 prov’d herself;
:And therefore, like herself, wise, fair, and true,
:Shall she be placed in my constant soul.
[Enter JESSICA.]
What, art thou come? On, gentlemen, away!
:Our masquing mates by this time for us stay.
[Exit with JESSICA and SALARINO.]
[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 to-night: 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 to-night.
[Exeunt.]
=== SCENE 7. Belmont. A room in PORTIA’s house. ===
[Flourish of cornets. Enter PORTIA, with the PRINCE OF MOROCCO, and their trains.]
PORTIA.
:Go draw aside the curtains and discover
:The several caskets to this noble prince.
:Now make your choice.
PRINCE OF MOROCCO.
:The 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.
PRINCE OF MOROCCO.
:Some god direct my judgment! Let me see;
:I will survey the 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 be’st 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 stray’d no farther, but chose here?
:Let’s see once more this saying grav’d 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
:Spits 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 immur’d,
:Being ten times undervalu’d 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 insculp’d 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, and if my form lie there,
:Then I am yours.
[He unlocks the golden casket.]
PRINCE OF 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 inscroll’d:
:: Fare you well, your suit is cold.’
:: Cold indeed; and labour lost:
:: Then, farewell, heat, and welcome, frost!
:Portia, adieu! I have too griev’d a heart
:To take a tedious leave; thus losers part.
[Exit with his train. Flourish of cornets.]
PORTIA.
:A gentle riddance. Draw the curtains: go.
:Let all of his complexion choose me so.
[Exeunt.]
=== SCENE 8. Venice. A street ===
[Enter SALARINO and SALANIO.]
SALARINO.
:Why, man, I saw Bassanio under sail;
:With him is Gratiano gone along;
:And in their ship I am sure Lorenzo is not.
SALANIO.
:The villain Jew with outcries rais’d 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.
SALANIO.
:I never heard a passion so confus’d,
:So strange, outrageous, and so variable,
:As the dog Jew did utter in the streets.
:‘My daughter! O my ducats! O my daughter!
:Fled with a Christian! O my Christian ducats!
:Justice! the law! my ducats and my daughter!
:A sealed bag, two sealed bags of ducats,
: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.
SALANIO.
:Let good Antonio look he keep his day,
:Or he shall pay for this.
SALARINO.
:Marry, well remember’d.
:I reason’d with a Frenchman yesterday,
:Who told me,—in the narrow seas that part
:The French and English,—there miscarried
:A vessel of our country richly fraught.
:I thought upon Antonio when he told me,
:And wish’d in silence that it were not his.
SALANIO.
: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 answer’d ‘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.
SALANIO.
: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.
[Exeunt.]
=== SCENE 9. Belmont. A room in PORTIA’s house. ===
[Enter NERISSA, with 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.
[Flourish of cornets. Enter the PRINCE OF ARRAGON, PORTIA, and their Trains.]
PORTIA.
:Behold, there stand the caskets, noble Prince:
:If you choose that wherein I am contain’d,
:Straight shall our nuptial rites be solemniz’d;
:But if you fail, without more speech, my lord,
:You must be gone from hence immediately.
ARRAGON.
:I am enjoin’d by oath to observe three things:
:First, never to unfold to any one
:Which casket ’twas I chose; next, if I fail
:Of the right casket, never in my life
:To woo a maid in way of marriage;
:Lastly,
:If I do fail in fortune of my choice,
:Immediately to leave you and be gone.
PORTIA.
:To these injunctions every one doth swear
:That comes to hazard for my worthless self.
ARRAGON.
:And so have I address’d 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 honourable
:Without the stamp of merit? Let none presume
:To wear an undeserved dignity.
:O! that estates, degrees, and offices
:Were not deriv’d corruptly, and that clear honour
:Were purchas’d 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 glean’d
:From the true seed of honour; and how much honour
:Pick’d from the chaff and ruin of the times
:To be new varnish’d! 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,
: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?
: ‘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, I wis,
: Silver’d o’er, and so was this.
: Take what wife you will to bed,
: I will ever be your head:
: So be gone; 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.
[Exit ARAGON with his train.]
PORTIA.
:Thus hath the candle sing’d 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 a SERVANT.]
SERVANT.
:Where is my lady?
PORTIA.
:Here; what would my lord?
SERVANT.
: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!
[Exeunt.]
== ACT 3. ==
=== SCENE I. Venice. A street ===
[Enter SALANIO and SALARINO.]
SALANIO.
:Now, what news on the Rialto?
SALARINO.
:Why, yet it lives there unchecked that Antonio hath a ship
:of rich lading wrack’d 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.
SALANIO.
:I would she were as lying a gossip in that as ever knapped
:ginger or made her neighbours believe she wept for the death of a
:third husband. But it is true,—without any slips of prolixity or
:crossing the plain 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.
SALANIO.
:Ha! What sayest thou? Why, the end is, he hath lost a
:ship.
SALARINO.
:I would it might prove the end of his losses.
SALANIO.
: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.
SALANIO.
:And Shylock, for his own part, knew the bird was fledged;
: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!
SALANIO.
: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 bankrupt, a prodigal,
:who dare scarce show his head on the Rialto; a beggar, that 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 courtesy; 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 disgrac’d me and hind’red me half a
:million; laugh’d at my losses, mock’d 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 Servant.]
SERVANT.
: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.]
SALANIO.
:Here comes another of the tribe: a third cannot be
:match’d, unless the devil himself turn Jew.
[Exeunt SALANIO, SALARINO, and Servant.]
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 Frankfort! 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 on my shoulders; no sighs but of my
:breathing; no tears but of 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!
:Where? 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.
[Exeunt.]
=== SCENE 2. Belmont. A room in PORTIA’s house. ===
[Enter BASSANIO, PORTIA, GRATIANO, NERISSA, and Attendants.]
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’erlook’d 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 peise the time,
:To eke 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 lock’d 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 swan-like end,
:Fading in music: that the comparison
:May stand more proper, my eye shall be the stream
:And watery death-bed 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, 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 engend’red in the eyes,
:: 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 deceiv’d with ornament.
:In law, what plea so tainted and corrupt
:But, being season’d with a gracious voice,
:Obscures the show of evil? In religion,
:What damned error but some sober brow
:Will bless it, and approve it with a text,
:Hiding the grossness with fair ornament?
:There is no vice so simple but assumes
:Some mark of virtue on his outward parts.
:How many cowards, whose hearts are all as false
:As stairs of sand, wear yet upon their chins
:The beards of Hercules and frowning Mars;
:Who, inward search’d, have livers white as milk;
:And these assume but valour’s excrement
:To render them redoubted! Look on beauty
:And you shall see ’tis purchas’d by the weight:
:Which therein works a miracle in nature,
:Making them lightest that wear most of it:
:So are those crisped snaky golden locks
:Which make 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 sepulchre.
: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, 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 meagre lead,
:Which rather threaten’st than dost promise aught,
:Thy plainness moves me more than eloquence,
:And here choose I: joy be the consequence!
PORTIA.
:[Aside] How all the other passions fleet to air,
:As doubtful thoughts, and rash-embrac’d despair,
:And shuddering fear, and green-ey’d 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.
:What find I here? [Opening the leaden casket.]
:Fair Portia’s counterfeit! What demi-god
:Hath come so near creation? Move these eyes?
:Or whether riding on the balls of mine,
:Seem they in motion? Here are sever’d lips,
:Parted with sugar breath; so sweet a bar
:Should sunder such sweet friends. Here in her hairs
:The painter plays the spider, and hath woven
:A golden mesh t’ 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 unfurnish’d: 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.
: ‘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 pleas’d with this,
: And hold your fortune for your bliss,
: Turn to where your lady is
: And claim her with a loving kiss.’
A gentle scroll. Fair lady, by your leave; [Kissing her.]
:I come by note, to give and to receive.
:Like one of two contending in a prize,
:That thinks he hath done well in 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 confirm’d, sign’d, 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 unlesson’d girl, unschool’d, unpractis’d;
: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,
: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,
:Express’d and not express’d. 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 honours 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 lov’d, I lov’d; for intermission
:No more pertains to me, my lord, than you.
:Your fortune stood upon the caskets there,
:And so did mine too, as the matter falls;
:For wooing 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
:Achiev’d her mistress.
PORTIA.
:Is this true, Nerissa?
NERISSA.
:Madam, it is, so you stand pleas’d withal.
BASSANIO.
:And do you, Gratiano, mean good faith?
GRATIANO.
:Yes, faith, my lord.
BASSANIO.
:Our feast shall be much honour’d 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.
:But who comes here? Lorenzo and his infidel?
:What, and my old Venetian friend, Salanio!
[Enter LORENZO, JESSICA, and SALANIO.]
BASSANIO.
:Lorenzo and Salanio, welcome hither,
:If that the youth of my new interest here
:Have power to bid you welcome. By your leave,
:I bid my very friends and countrymen,
:Sweet Portia, welcome.
PORTIA.
:So do I, my lord;
:They are entirely welcome.
LORENZO.
:I thank your honour. For my part, my lord,
:My purpose was not to have seen you here;
:But meeting with Salanio by the way,
:He did entreat me, past all saying nay,
:To come with him along.
SALANIO.
:I did, my lord,
:And I have reason for it. Signior Antonio
:Commends him to you.
[Gives BASSANIO a letter]
BASSANIO.
:Ere I ope his letter,
:I pray you tell me how my good friend doth.
SALANIO.
:Not sick, my lord, unless it be in mind;
:Nor well, unless in mind; his letter there
:Will show you his estate.
GRATIANO.
:Nerissa, cheer yon stranger; bid her welcome.
:Your hand, Salanio. 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.
SALANIO.
:I would you had won the fleece that he hath lost.
PORTIA.
:There are some shrewd contents in yon same paper.
:That steal the colour from Bassanio’s cheek:
:Some dear friend dead, else nothing in the world
:Could turn so much the constitution
:Of any constant man. What, worse and worse!
:With leave, Bassanio: I am half 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 engag’d myself to a dear friend,
:Engag’d 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, Salanio?
:Hath all his ventures fail’d? 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?
SALANIO.
: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 condition’d and unwearied spirit
:In doing courtesies; and one in whom
:The ancient Roman honour 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.
:‘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 clear’d 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 be gone!
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.
[Exeunt.]
=== SCENE 3. Venice. A street ===
[Enter SHYLOCK, SALARINO, ANTONIO, and Gaoler.]
SHYLOCK.
:Gaoler, look to him. Tell not me of mercy;
:This is the fool that lent out money gratis:
:Gaoler, 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 gaoler, 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.
[Exit.]
SALARINO.
: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 deliver’d from his forfeitures
:Many that have at times made moan to me;
:Therefore he hates me.
SALARINO.
: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,
:’Twill much impeach the justice of the state,
:Since that the trade and profit of the city
:Consisteth of all nations. Therefore, go;
:These griefs and losses have so bated me
:That I shall hardly spare a pound of flesh
:To-morrow to my bloody creditor.
:Well, gaoler, on; pray God Bassanio come
:To see me pay his debt, and then I care not.
[Exeunt.]
=== SCENE 4. Belmont. A room in PORTIA’s house. ===
[Enter PORTIA, NERISSA, LORENZO, JESSICA, and BALTHASAR.]
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 honour,
: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 breath’d a secret vow
:To live in prayer and contemplation,
:Only attended by Nerissa here,
:Until her husband and my lord’s return.
:There is a monastery two miles off,
:And there we will abide. I do desire you
:Not to deny this imposition,
:The which my love and some necessity
:Now lays upon you.
LORENZO.
:Madam, with all my heart
:I shall obey you in an 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 pleas’d
:To wish it back on you. Fare you well, Jessica.
[Exeunt JESSICA and LORENZO.]
:Now, Balthasar,
:As I have ever found thee honest-true,
:So let me find thee still. Take this same letter,
:And use thou all th’ endeavour of a man
:In speed to Padua; see thou render this
:Into my cousin’s hands, Doctor Bellario;
:And look what notes and garments he doth give thee,
:Bring them, I pray thee, with imagin’d speed
:Unto the traject, to the common ferry
:Which trades to Venice. Waste no time in words,
:But get thee gone; I shall be there before thee.
BALTHASAR.
:Madam, I go with all convenient speed.
[Exit.]
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 accoutred like young men,
:I’ll prove the prettier fellow of the two,
:And wear my dagger with the braver grace,
:And speak between the change of man and boy
:With a reed voice; and turn two mincing steps
:Into a manly stride; and speak of frays
:Like a fine bragging youth; and tell quaint lies,
:How honourable ladies sought my love,
:Which I denying, they fell sick and died;
:I could not do withal. Then I’ll repent,
:And wish for all that, that I had not kill’d them.
:And twenty of these puny lies I’ll tell,
:That men shall swear I have discontinu’d school
:About a twelvemonth. I have within my mind
:A thousand raw tricks of these bragging Jacks,
:Which I will practise.
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 to-day.
[Exeunt.]
=== SCENE 5. The same. A garden. ===
[Enter LAUNCELOT and JESSICA.]
LAUNCELOT.
:Yes, truly; for, look you, the sins of the father are to
:be laid upon the children; therefore, I promise you, I fear you.
:I was always plain with you, and so now I speak my agitation of
:the matter; therefore be of good cheer, for truly I think you are
:damn’d. There is but one hope in it that can do you any good, and
:that is but a kind of bastard hope neither.
JESSICA.
:And what hope is that, I pray thee?
LAUNCELOT.
: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.
LAUNCELOT.
:Truly then I fear you are damn’d 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.
LAUNCELOT.
: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.
JESSICA.
:I’ll tell my husband, Launcelot, what you say; here he comes.
[Enter LORENZO.]
LORENZO.
:I shall grow jealous of you shortly, Launcelot, if you
:thus get my wife into corners.
JESSICA.
:Nay, you need nor fear us, Lorenzo; Launcelot 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, Launcelot.
LAUNCELOT.
: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.
LAUNCELOT.
:That is done, sir; they have all stomachs.
LORENZO.
:Goodly Lord, what a wit-snapper are you! Then bid them
:prepare dinner.
LAUNCELOT.
:That is done too, sir, only ‘cover’ is the word.
LORENZO.
:Will you cover, then, sir?
LAUNCELOT.
:Not so, sir, neither; I know my duty.
LORENZO.
:Yet more quarrelling 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.
LAUNCELOT.
: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 humours and conceits shall govern.
[Exit.]
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,
:Garnish’d 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
:Pawn’d 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 howsoe’er thou speak’st, ’mong other things
:I shall digest it.
JESSICA.
:Well, I’ll set you forth.
[Exeunt.]
== ACT 4. ==
=== SCENE I. Venice. A court of justice ===
[Enter the DUKE: the Magnificoes; ANTONIO, BASSANIO, GRATIANO, SALARINO, SALANIO, and Others.]
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 arm’d
:To suffer with a quietness of spirit
:The very tyranny and rage of his.
DUKE.
:Go one, and call the Jew into the court.
SALARINO.
: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, touch’d with human gentleness and love,
:Forgive a moiety of the principal,
:Glancing an eye of pity on his losses,
:That have of late so huddled on his back,
: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 train’d
:To offices of tender courtesy.
:We all expect a gentle answer, Jew.
SHYLOCK.
:I have possess’d your Grace of what I purpose,
:And by our holy Sabbath have I sworn
:To have the due and forfeit of my bond.
:If you deny it, let the danger light
:Upon your charter and your city’s freedom.
:You’ll ask me why I rather choose to have
:A weight of carrion flesh than to receive
:Three thousand ducats. I’ll not answer that,
:But say it is my humour: is it answer’d?
:What if my house be troubled with a rat,
:And I be pleas’d to give ten thousand ducats
:To have it ban’d? What, are you answer’d yet?
:Some men there are love not a gaping pig;
:Some that are mad if they behold a cat;
:And others, when the bagpipe sings i’ the nose,
:Cannot contain their urine; for affection,
:Mistress of passion, sways it to the mood
:Of what it likes or loathes. Now, for your answer:
:As there is no firm reason to be render’d,
:Why he cannot abide a gaping pig;
:Why he, a harmless necessary cat;
:Why he, a wauling 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 lodg’d 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 answer.
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.
: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 moe 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, rendering none?
SHYLOCK.
:What judgment shall I dread, doing no wrong?
:You have among you many a purchas’d slave,
:Which, fike 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 season’d with such viands? You will answer
:‘The slaves are ours.’ So do I answer you:
:The pound of flesh which I demand of him
:Is dearly bought; ’tis mine, and I will have it.
:If you deny me, fie upon your law!
:There is no force in the decrees of Venice.
:I stand for judgment: answer; shall I have it?
DUKE.
:Upon my power I may dismiss this court,
:Unless Bellario, a learned doctor,
:Whom I have sent for to determine this,
:Come here to-day.
SALARINO.
: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 employ’d, Bassanio,
:Than to live still, and write mine epitaph.
[Enter NERISSA dressed like a lawyer’s clerk.]
DUKE.
:Came you from Padua, from Bellario?
NERISSA.
:From both, my lord. Bellario greets your Grace.
[Presents a letter.]
BASSANIO.
:Why dost thou whet thy knife so earnestly?
SHYLOCK.
:To cut the forfeiture from that bankrupt 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 damn’d, inexecrable dog!
:And for thy life let justice be accus’d.
:Thou almost mak’st me waver in my faith,
:To hold opinion with Pythagoras
:That souls of animals infuse themselves
:Into the trunks of men. Thy currish spirit
:Govern’d a wolf who, hang’d for human slaughter,
:Even from the gallows did his fell soul fleet,
:And, whilst thou lay’st in thy unhallow’d dam,
:Infus’d itself in thee; for thy desires
:Are wolfish, bloody, starv’d 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.
:He attendeth here hard by,
:To know your answer, whether you’ll admit him.
DUKE OF VENICE.
:With all my heart: some three or four of you
:Go give him courteous conduct to this place.
:Meantime, the court shall hear Bellario’s letter.
CLERK.
:‘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
:turn’d o’er many books together; he is furnished with my opinion
:which, bettered with his own learning,—the greatness whereof I
:cannot enough commend,—comes with him at my importunity to fill
:up your Grace’s request in my stead. I beseech you let his lack
:of years be no impediment to let him lack a reverend estimation,
:for I never knew so young a body with so old a head. I leave him
:to your gracious acceptance, whose trial shall better publish his
:commendation.’
DUKE.
:YOU hear the learn’d Bellario, what he writes;
:And here, I take it, is the doctor come.
[Enter PORTIA, dressed like a doctor of laws.]
:Give me your hand; come you from old Bellario?
PORTIA.
: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.
:I am informed throughly of the cause.
:Which is the merchant here, and which the Jew?
DUKE OF VENICE.
:Antonio and old Shylock, both stand forth.
PORTIA.
:Is your name Shylock?
SHYLOCK.
:Shylock is my name.
PORTIA.
: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.
:Do you confess the bond?
ANTONIO.
:I do.
PORTIA.
:Then must the Jew be merciful.
SHYLOCK.
:On what compulsion must I? Tell me that.
PORTIA.
:The quality of mercy is not strain’d;
: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 sceptre 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 sceptred 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.
: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. 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.
: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 honour thee!
PORTIA.
:I pray you, let me look upon the bond.
SHYLOCK.
:Here ’tis, most reverend doctor; here it is.
PORTIA.
:Shylock, there’s thrice thy money offer’d thee.
SHYLOCK.
:An oath, an oath! I have an oath in heaven.
:Shall I lay perjury upon my soul?
:No, not for Venice.
PORTIA.
: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 tenour.
:It doth appear you are a worthy judge;
:You know the law; your exposition
:Hath been most sound; I charge you by the law,
:Whereof you are a well-deserving pillar,
:Proceed to judgment. By my soul I swear
:There is no power in the tongue of man
:To alter me. I stay here on my bond.
ANTONIO.
:Most heartily I do beseech the court
:To give the judgment.
PORTIA.
:Why then, thus it is:
:You must prepare your bosom for his knife.
SHYLOCK.
:O noble judge! O excellent young man!
PORTIA.
: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.
: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.
:It is so. Are there balance here to weigh
:The flesh?
SHYLOCK.
:I have them ready.
PORTIA.
: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.
:It is not so express’d; but what of that?
:’Twere good you do so much for charity.
SHYLOCK.
:I cannot find it; ’tis not in the bond.
PORTIA.
:You, merchant, have you anything to say?
ANTONIO.
:But little: I am arm’d and well prepar’d.
:Give me your hand, Bassanio: fare you well.!
:Grieve not that I am fallen 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 lingering penance
:Of such misery doth she cut me off.
:Commend me to your honourable wife:
:Tell her the process of Antonio’s end;
:Say how I lov’d you; speak me fair in death;
:And, when the tale is told, bid her be judge
:Whether Bassanio had not once a love.
:Repent 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 esteem’d above thy life;
:I would lose all, ay, sacrifice them all
:Here to this devil, to deliver you.
PORTIA.
:Your wife would give you little thanks for that,
:If she were by to hear you make the offer.
GRATIANO.
:I have a wife whom, I protest, I love;
:I would she were in heaven, so she could
:Entreat some power to change this currish Jew.
NERISSA.
:’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.
: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.
: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.
: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.
:Thyself shalt see the act;
:For, as thou urgest justice, be assur’d
:Thou shalt have justice, more than thou desir’st.
GRATIANO.
:O learned judge! Mark, Jew: alearned judge!
SHYLOCK.
:I take this offer then: pay the bond thrice,
:And let the Christian go.
BASSANIO.
:Here is the money.
PORTIA.
: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.
: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.
: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.
:He hath refus’d 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.
: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.
PORTIA.
:Tarry, Jew.
:The law hath yet another hold on you.
:It is enacted in the laws of Venice,
:If it be prov’d against an alien
:That by direct or indirect attempts
:He seek the life of any citizen,
:The party ’gainst the which he doth contrive
:Shall seize 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 incurr’d
:The danger formerly by me rehears’d.
: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 hang’d at the state’s charge.
DUKE.
:That thou shalt see the difference of our spirits,
: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.
: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.
: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 favour,
:He presently become a Christian;
:The other, that he do record a gift,
:Here in the court, of all he dies possess’d
:Unto his son Lorenzo and his daughter.
DUKE.
:He shall do this, or else I do recant
:The pardon that I late pronounced here.
PORTIA.
:Art thou contented, Jew? What dost thou say?
SHYLOCK.
:I am content.
PORTIA.
: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 christening shalt thou have two god-fathers;
:Had I been judge, thou shouldst have had ten more,
:To bring thee to the gallows, not to the font.
[Exit SHYLOCK.]
DUKE.
:Sir, I entreat you home with me to dinner.
PORTIA.
: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.
[Exeunt DUKE, Magnificoes, and Train.]
BASSANIO.
: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.
: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.
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.
:You press me far, and therefore I will yield.
[To ANTONIO]
:Give me your gloves, I’ll wear them for your sake.
[To BASSANIO]
: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.
: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.
:I see, sir, you are liberal in offers;
:You taught me first to beg, and now methinks
:You teach me how a beggar should be answer’d.
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.
:That ’scuse serves many men to save their gifts.
:And if your wife be not a mad-woman,
:And know how well I have deserv’d this ring,
:She would not hold out enemy for ever
:For giving it to me. Well, peace be with you!
[Exeunt PORTIA and NERISSA.]
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.
[Exit GRATIANO.]
:Come, you and I will thither presently;
:And in the morning early will we both
:Fly toward Belmont. Come, Antonio.
[Exeunt.]
=== SCENE II. The same. A street ===
[Enter PORTIA and NERISSA.]
PORTIA.
:Inquire the Jew’s house out, give him this deed,
:And let him sign it; 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.
PORTIA.
: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.
: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 for ever.
PORTIA.[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.
NERISSA.
:Come, good sir, will you show me to this house?
[Exeunt.]
== ACT 5. ==
=== SCENE I. Belmont. The avenue to PORTIA’s house. ===
[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 Troyan walls,
:And sigh’d his soul toward the Grecian tents,
:Where Cressid lay that night.
JESSICA.
:In such a night
:Did Thisby fearfully o’ertrip the dew,
:And saw the lion’s shadow ere himself,
:And ran dismay’d 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 gather’d 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 lov’d 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 no body come;
:But, hark, I hear the footing of a man.
[Enter STEPHANO.]
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 return’d?
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 LAUNCELOT.]
LAUNCELOT. Sola, sola! wo ha, ho! sola, sola!
LORENZO.
:Who calls?
LAUNCELOT.
:Sola! Did you see Master Lorenzo? Master Lorenzo! Sola, sola!
LORENZO.
:Leave holloaing, man. Here!
LAUNCELOT.
:Sola! Where? where?
LORENZO.
:Here!
LAUNCELOT.
:Tell him there’s a post come from my master with his
:horn full of good news; my master will be here ere morning.
[Exit]
LORENZO.
:Sweet soul, 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.
[Exit STEPHANO.]
: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 patines of bright gold;
:There’s not the smallest orb which thou behold’st
:But in his motion like an angel sings,
:Still quiring 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 Musicians.]
:Come, ho! and wake Diana with a hymn;
:With sweetest touches pierce your mistress’ ear.
:And draw her home with music.
[Music.]
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 turn’d to a modest gaze
:By the sweet power of music: therefore the poet
:Did feign that Orpheus drew trees, stones, and floods;
:Since nought 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 mov’d with concord of sweet sounds,
:Is fit for treasons, stratagems, and spoils;
:The motions of his spirit are dull as night,
:And his affections dark as Erebus.
:Let no such man be trusted. Mark the music.
[Enter PORTIA and NERISSA, at a distance.]
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 season’d are
:To their right praise and true perfection!
:Peace, ho! The moon sleeps with Endymion,
:And would not be awak’d!
[Music ceases.]
LORENZO.
:That is the voice,
:Or I am much deceiv’d, 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 return’d?
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 tucket 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.
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 cutlers’ 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 begg’d 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 begg’d it, and indeed
:Deserv’d it too; and then the boy, his clerk,
:That took some pains in writing, he begg’d 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 receiv’d 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.
: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 nought 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 honour to contain the ring,
:You would not then have parted with the ring.
:What man is there so much unreasonable,
:If you had pleas’d to have defended it
:With any terms of zeal, wanted the modesty
:To urge the thing held as a ceremony?
:Nerissa teaches me what to believe:
:I’ll die for’t but some woman had the ring.
BASSANIO.
:No, by my honour, madam, by my soul,
:No woman had it, but a civil doctor,
:Which did refuse three thousand ducats of me,
:And begg’d the ring; the which I did deny him,
:And suffer’d him to go displeas’d away;
:Even he that had held up the very life
:Of my dear friend. What should I say, sweet lady?
:I was enforc’d to send it after him;
:I was beset with shame and courtesy;
:My honour 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 begg’d
: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 honour which is yet mine own,
:I’ll have that doctor for mine bedfellow.
NERISSA.
:And I his clerk; therefore be well advis’d
: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 the 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,
: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.
GRATIANO.
:Why, this is like the mending of high ways
:In summer, where the ways are fair enough.
:What! are we cuckolds ere we have deserv’d it?
PORTIA.
:Speak not so grossly. You are all amaz’d:
:Here is a letter; read it at your leisure;
:It comes from Padua, from Bellario:
:There you shall find that Portia was the doctor,
:Nerissa there, her clerk: Lorenzo here
:Shall witness I set forth as soon as you,
:And even but now return’d; I have not yet
:Enter’d my house. Antonio, you are welcome;
:And I have better news in store for you
:Than you expect: unseal this letter soon;
:There you shall find three of your argosies
:Are richly come to harbour suddenly.
:You shall not know by what strange accident
:I chanced on this letter.
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.
: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.
:There do I give to you and Jessica,
:From the rich Jew, a special deed of gift,
:After his death, of all he dies possess’d of.
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: he first inter’gatory
:That my Nerissa shall be sworn on is,
:Whe’r till the next night she had rather stay,
:Or go to bed now, being two hours to day:
:But were the day come, I should wish it dark,
:Till I were couching with the doctor’s clerk.
:Well, while I live, I’ll fear no other thing
:So sore as keeping safe Nerissa’s ring.
[Exeunt.]
Category:Comedy
Category:Library Archive/PD