the scroll,

Methinks, it should have power to steal both his,
And leave itself1 unfinish'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 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 you where your lady is,

And claim her with a loving kiss."
A gentle scroll.-Fair lady, by your leave;

I come by note, to give, and to receive. [Kissing her.
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.

Por. 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;

[rich,

A thousand times more fair, ten thousand times more
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 nothing; which, to term in gross,
Is an unlesson'd girl, unschool'd, unpractis'd:
Happy in this, she is not yet so old
But she may learn; happier than this,

She is not bred so dull but she can learn ;
Happiest of all, in 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. 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. [Giving it.
Bass. Madam, you have bereft me of all words:
Only my blood speaks to you in my veins;
And there is such confusion in my powers,
As after some oration, fairly spoke
By a beloved prince, there doth appear
Among the buzzing pleased multitude;
Where every something, being blent together,
Turns to a wild of nothing, save of joy,
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.

Ner. My lord and lady, it is now our time,
That have stood by, and seen our wishes prosper,
To cry, good joy. Good joy, my lord, and lady!
Gra. My lord Bassanio, and my gentle lady,
I wish you all the joy that you can wish,
For, I am sure, you can wish none from me;
And, when your honors mean to solemnize
The bargain of your faith, I do beseech you,
Even at that time I may be married too.

Bass. With all my heart, so thou can'st get a wife. Gra. I thank your lordship, you have got me one. My eyes, my lord, can look as swift as yours:

You saw the mistress, I beheld the maid;
You lov'd, I lov'd; for intermission.
No more pertains to me, my lord, than you.
Your fortune stood upon the caskets there,
And so did mine too, as the matter falls;
For wooing here, until I sweat again,
And swearing, till my very tongue 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.

I pray you, tell me how my good friend doth."
Sale. Not sick, my lord, unless it be in mind;
Nor well, unless in mind: his letter there
Will show you his estate.

[BASSANIO reads.

Gra. Nerissa, cheer yon stranger; bid her welcome. Your hand, Salerio: what's the news from Venice? How doth that royal merchant, good Antonio?

I know, he will be glad of our success;
We are the Jasons, we have won the fleece. [lost!
Sale. I would you had won the fleece that he hath
Por. There are some shrewd contents in yon same
That steal the color from Bassanio's cheek: [paper,
Some dear friend dead, else nothing in the world
Could turn so much the constitution

с

Of any constant man. What, worse and worse?-
With leave, Bassanio; I am half yourself,

And I must freely have the half of any thing
That this same paper brings you.

Bass.
O sweet Portia'
Here are a few of the unpleasant'st words
That ever blotted paper. Gentle lady,
When I did first impart my love to you,
I freely told you, all the wealth I had
Ran in my veins-I was a gentleman:
And then I told you true, and yet, dear lady,
Rating 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
That I was worse than nothing; for, indeed,
I have engag'd myself to a dear friend,
To feed my means.
friend to his mere enemy,
Engag'd my
Here is a letter, lady;

you,

Have all his ventures fail'd? What, not one hit?
From Tripolis, from Mexico, and England,
From Lisbon, Barbary, and India?

And not one vessel 'scap'd the dreadful touch
Of merchant-marring rocks?

Sale.
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.

a

Jes. 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.

Por. Is it your dear friend that is thus in trouble?
Bass. The dearest friend to me, the kindest man,
The best condition'd and unwearied'st spirit
In doing courtesies; and one in whom
The ancient Roman honor more appears,
Than any that draws breath in Italy.
Por. What sum owes he the Jew?
Bass. For me, three thousand ducats.
Por.

What! no more?

Pay him six thousand, and deface the bond:
Double six thousand, and then treble that,
Before a friend of this description
Shall lose a hair through my Bassanio's fault.
First, go with me to church, and call me wife,
And then away to Venice to your friend;
For never shall you 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, mean time,
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.

b

Bass. [Reads.] "Sweet Bassanio, my ships have all miscarried, my creditors grow cruel, my estate is very low, my bond to the Jew is forfeit; and since in paying it it is impossible I should live, all debts are cleared between you and I, if I might but see you at my death. Notwithstanding, use your pleasure; if your love do not persuade you to come, let not my letter."

Por. O love! despatch all business, and begone. Bass. Since I have your good leave to go away, I will make haste; but till I come again, No bed shall e'er be guilty of my stay, Nor rest be interposer 'twixt us twain. [Exeunt.

SCENE III-Venice. A Street. Enter SHYLOCK, SALANIO, ANTONIO, and Jailor. Shy. Jailor, look to him: tell not me of mercy. This is the fool that lent out money gratis.Grandees.- Countenance; look.

Jailor, look to him.
Ant.
Shy. 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 jailor, that thou art so fond
To come abroad with him at his request.

Hear me yet, good Shylock.

Ant. I pray thee, hear me speak.

Shy. I'll have my bond; I will not hear thee speak: I'll have my bond, and therefore speak no more. I'll not be made a soft and dull-ey'd fool, To shake the head, relent, and sigh, and yield To Christian intercessors. Follow not; I'll have no speaking: I will have my bond. [Exit SHYLOCK. Salan. It is the most impenetrable cur, That ever kept with men.

Ant.

Let him alone: I'll follow him no more with bootless prayers. He seeks my life; his reason well I know.

I oft deliver'd from his forfeitures

Many that have at times made moan to me;
Therefore he hates me.

Salan.
I am sure, the duke
Will never grant this forfeiture to hold.
Ant. The duke cannot deny the course of law;
For the commodity that strangers have
With us in Venice, if it be denied,
Will much impeach the justice of the state;
Since that the trade and profit of the city
Consisteth of all nations. Therefore, go:
These griefs and losses have so 'bated me,
That I shall hardly spare a pound of flesh
To-morrow to my bloody creditor.-
Well, jailor, on.-Pray God, Bassanio come
To see me pay his debt, and then I care not.

[Exeunt. SCENE IV.-Belmont. A Room in PORTIA'S House.

Enter PORTIA, NERISSA, LORENZO, JESSICA, and BALTHAZAR.

Lor. Madam, although I speak it in your presence, You have a noble and a true conceit Of god-like amity; which appears most strongly In bearing thus the absence of your lord. But, if you knew to whom you show this honor, How true a gentleman you send relief, How dear a lover of my lord, your husband, I know, you would be prouder of the work, Than customary bounty can enforce you. Nor shall not now: for in companions Por. I never did repent for doing good, 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 bestow'd, In purchasing the semblance of my soul This comes too near the praising of myself, From out the state of hellish cruelty! 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 3 sacred vow

To live in prayer and contemplation,
Only attended by Nerissa here,

Until her husband and my lord's return.
There is a monastery two miles off,

And there we will abide. I do desire you
Not to deny this imposition,

The which my love, and some necessity, Now lays upon you.

Lor.

Madam, with all my heart: I shall obey you in all fair commands. Por. My people do already know my mind, And will acknowledge you and Jessica In place of lord Bassanio and myself. So fare you well, till we shall meet again.

Lor. Fair thoughts, and happy hours, attend on you! Jes. I wish your ladyship all heart's content. Por. I thank you for your wish, and am well-pleas'd To wish it back on you: fare you well, Jessica.[Exeunt JESSICA and LORENZO.

Now, Balthazar,

As I have ever found thee honest, true,
So let me find thee still. Take this same letter,
And use thou all the endeavor of a man,
In speed to Padua: see thou render this
Into my cousin's hand, doctor Bellario;
And, look, what notes and garments he doth give thee,
Bring them, I pray thee, with imagin'd speed
Unto the Tranect, to the common ferry
Which trades to Venice. Waste no time in words,
But get thee gone: I shall be there before thee.
Balth. Madam, I go with all convenient speed.

[Exit. Por. Come on, Nerissa: I have work in hand, That you yet know not of. We'll see our husbands, Before they think of us.

Ner.

Shall they see us?

Por. They shall, Nerissa: but in such a habit, That they shall think we are accomplished With that we lack. I'll hold thee any wager, When we are both accoutred like young men, I'll prove the prettier fellow of the two, And wear my dagger with the braver grace; And speak between the change of man and boy, With a reed voice; and turn two mincing steps Into a manly stride; and speak of frays, Like a fine bragging youth; and tell quaint lies, How honorable ladies sought my love, Which I denying, they fell sick and died; I could not do withal:-then, I'll repent, And wish, for all that, that I had not kill'd them. And twenty of these puny lies I'll tell,

b

That men shall swear, I have discontinued school
Above a twelvemonth. I have within my mind
A thousand raw tricks of these bragging Jacks,
Which I will practise.

Ner.

Why, shall we turn to men?
Por. Fie! what a question's that,
If thou wert near a lewd interpreter.
But come: I'll tell thee all my whole device
When I am in my coach, which stays for us
At the park gate; and therefore haste away,
For we must measure twenty miles to-day. [Exeunt.

SCENE V.The Same. A Garden.
Enter LAUNCELOT and JESSICA.

Laun. Yes, truly; for, look you, the sins of the father are to be laid upon the children; therefore, I promise you, fear you. I was always plain with you, and so now I speak my agitation of the matter:

"With imagin'd speed," i. e., with the greatest speed im. aginable.-"I could not do withal," i, e., I could not help it-"I fear you," i, e., I fear for you.

therefore, be of good cheer; for, truly, I think, you are damned. There is but one hope in it that can do you any good, and that is but a kind of bastard hope neither.

Jes. And what hope is that, I pray thee?

Laun. Marry, you may partly hope that your father got you not; that you are not the Jew's daughter.

Jes. That were a kind of bastard hope, indeed: so the sins of my mother should be visited upon me.

Laun. Truly, then, I fear you are damned both by father and mother: thus when I shun Scylla, your father, I fall into Charybdis, your mother. Well, you are gone both ways.

Jes. I shall be saved by my husband; he hath made me a Christian.

Laun. Truly, the more to blame he: we were Christiansenow 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 porkeaters, we shall not shortly have a rasher on the coals for money.

Enter LORENZO.

Jes. I'll tell my husband, Launcelot, what you say: here he comes.

Lor. I shall grow jealous of you shortly, Launcelot, if you thus get my wife into corners.

Jes. Nay, you need not fear us, Lorenzo: Launcelot and I are out. He tells me flatly, there is no mercy for me in 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.

Lor. I shall answer that better to the commonwealth, than you can the getting up of the negro's belly: the Moor is with child by you, Launcelot.

Laun. It is much, that the Moor should be more than reason; but if she be less than an honest woman, she is, indeed, more than I took her for.

Lor. How every fool can play upon the word! I think, the best grace of wit will shortly turn into silence, and discourse grow commendable in none only but parrots.-Go in, sirrah: bid them prepare for dinner.

Laun. That is done, sir; they have all stomachs. Lor. Goodly lord, what a wit-snapper are you! then, bid them prepare dinner.

Laun. That is done too, sir; only, cover is the

word.

Laun. For the table, sir, it shall be served in; for the meat, sir, it shall be covered; for your coming in to dinner, sir, why, let it be as humors and conceits shall govern. [Exit LAUNCELOT. Lor. O, dear discretion, how his words are suited! The fool hath planted in his memory An army of good words; and I do know A many fools, that stand in better place, Garnish'd like him, that for a 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? Jos. Past all expressing. It is very meet,

"Enow" is the old plural of enough.—• “Suited,” i. e., arranged; fitted to each other.

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 mean it, then,
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.

Lor.

Even such a husband

Hast thou of me, as she is for a wife.

Jes. Nay, but ask my opinion, too, of that. Lor. I will anon; first, let us go to dinner. Jes. Nay, let me praise you, while I have a stomach. Lor. No, pray thee, let it serve for table talk; Then, howsoe'er thou speak'st, 'mong other things I shall digest it. Jes. Well, I'll set you forth. [Exeunt.

Duke. Make room, and let him stand before our face.

Shylock, the world thinks, and I think so too,
That thou but lead'st this fashion of thy malice
To the last hour of act; and then, 'tis thought,
Thou'lt show thy mercy and remorse, more strange
Than is thy strange apparent cruelty;

c

And where thou now exact'st the penalty,
Which is a pound of this poor merchant's flesh,
Thou wilt not only lose the forfeiture,
But, touch'd with human gentleness and love,
Forgive a moiety of the principal;
Glancing an eye of pity on his losses,
That have of late so huddled on his back,
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.

[pose;

Shy. I have possess'd your grace of what Ï And by our holy Sabbath have I sworn To have the due and forfeit of my bond:

pur

Envy, in this place, means malice, hatred, Pity. Seeming. Whereas,

You'll ask me, why I rather choose to have
A weight of carrion flesh, than to receive
Three thousand ducats? I'll not answer that:
But, say, it is my humor: is it answer'd?
What if my house be troubled with a rat,
And I be pleas'd to give ten thousand ducats
To have it baned? What, are you answer'd yet?
Some men there are love not a gaping pig;
Some, that are mad if they behold a cat;
And others, when the bag-pipe sings i' the nose,
Cannot contain their urine for affection:
Masters of passion sway 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 2 bollen bag-pipe; but of force
Must yield to such inevitable shame,
As to offend, himself being offended,
So can I give no reason, nor I will not,
More than a lodg'd hate, and a certain loathing,
I bear Antonio, that I follow thus

A losing suit against him. Are you answer'd?
Bass. This is no answer, thou unfeeling man,
To excuse the current of thy cruelty.

Shy. I am not bound to please thee with my answer.
Bass. Do all men kill the things they do not love?
Shy. Hates any man the thing he would not kill?
Bass. Every offence is not a hate at first.

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

Ant. I pray you, think you & question with the Jew. You may as well go stand upon the beach, And bid the main flood bate his usual height; 3 Or e'en as well use question with the wolf, 4 When you behold 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 any thing most hard, As seek to soften that (than which what's harder?) His Jewish heart.-Therefore, I do beseech you, Make no more offers, use no farther means, But with all brief and plain conveniency, Let me have judgment, and the Jew his will. Bass. For thy three thousand ducats here is six. Shy. If 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? [wrong?

Shy. What judgment shall I dread, doing no You have among you many a purchas'd slave, Which, like your asses, and your dogs, and mules, You use in abject and in slavish 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.

Salar.

My lord, here stays without

Fancy.-f "Bollen," i. e., swollen.- Reason; debats.

A messenger with letters from the doctor,
New come from Padua.

Duke. Bring us the letters: call the messenger.
Bass. 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.

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

Enter NERISSA, dressed like a lawyer's clerk. Duke. Came you from Padua, from Bellario? Ner. From both, my lord. Bellario greets your grace. [Presenting a letter. Bass. Why dost thou whet thy knife so earnestly? [SHYLOCK whets his knife. Shy. To cut the forfeiture from that bankrupt there. Gra. 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? Shy. No, none that thou hast wit enough to make. Gra. O, be thou damn'd, inexorable dog, And for thy life let justice be accus'd! Thou almost mak'st me waver in my faith, To hold opinion with Pythagoras, That souls of animals infuse themselves Into the trunks of men: thy currish spirit Govern'd a wolf, who, hang'd for human slaughter, Even from the gallows did his fell soul fleet, And whilst thou lay'st in thy unhallow'd dam, Infus'd itself in thee; for thy desires Are wolfish, bloody, starv'd, and ravenous.

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

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

Ner. He attendeth here hard by, To know your answer, whether you'll admit him. Duke. With all my heart:-some three or four of

you,

Go give him courteous conduct to this place.-
Mean time, the court shall hear Bellario's letter.

[Clerk reads.] "Your grace shall understand, that at the receipt of your letter I am very sick; but in the instant that your messenger came, in loving visitation was with me a young doctor of Rome; his name is Balthazar. I acquainted him with the cause in controversy between the Jew and Antonio, the merchant: we turned o'er many books together: he is furnish'd with my opinion; which, better'd 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 And here, I take it, is the doctor come.- [writes: Enter PORTIA, dressed like a doctor of laws. Give me your hand. Came you from old Bellario? Por. I did, my lord. Duke.

You are welcome: take your place.

Malice; hatred.

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

с

Ant. Ay, so he says. Por.

[TO ANTONIO.

Do you confess the bond?

Ant. I do.
Por.
Then must the Jew be merciful.
Shy. On what compulsion must I? tell me that.
Por. The quality of mercy is not strain'd,
It droppeth as the gentle rain from heaven
Upon the place beneath: it is twice bless'd;
It blesseth him that gives, and him that takes:
'Tis mightiest in the mightiest; it becomes
The throned monarch better than his crown:
The attribute to awe and majesty,
His sceptre shows the force of temporal power,

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,
Though justice be thy plea, consider this,-
When mercy seasons justice. Therefore, Jew,
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
To mitigate the justice of thy plea,
The deeds of mercy. I have spoke thus much,

Which if thou follow, this strict court of Venice
Must needs give sentence 'gainst the merchant there.
Shy. My deeds upon my head. I crave the law;
The penalty and forfeit of my bond.

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

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

O,

wise young judge, how I do honor thee! Shy. A Daniel come to judgment! yea, a Daniel!Por. I pray you, let me look upon the bond. Shy. Here 'tis, most reverend doctor; here it is. [Showing it. Por. Shylock, there's thrice thy money offer'd thee. Shall I lay perjury upon my soul? Shy. An oath, an oath, I have an oath in heaven: No, not for Venice.

Por.

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