Enter Shylock.

Duke. Make room, and let him ftand before our

face.

Shylock, the world thinks, and I think fo too,
That thou but lead'ft this fashion of thy malice
To the laft hour of act; and then 'tis thought,
Thou'lt fhew thy mercy and remorfe more ftrange,
Than is thy ftrange apparent cruelty.

And, where thou now exact'ft 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 loffes,
That have of late fo huddled on his back,
Enough to prefs a royal merchant down;
And pluck commiferation of his ftate

From braffy bofoms, and rough hearts of flint;
From ftubborn Turks and Tartars, never train'd
To offices of tender courtesy.

We all expect a gentle anfwer, Jew.

Shy. I have poffefs'd your Grace of what I purpose. And by our holy Sabbath have I fworn, 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 chufe to have A weight of carrion flesh, than to receive Three thousand ducats? I'll now anfwer that By faying 'tis 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 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 fings i'th' nofe, Cannot contain their urine for affection.

Mafters

Mafters of paffion fway it to the mood

Of what it likes, or loaths. 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 neceffary cat;
Why he, a woollen bag-pipe; but of force
Muft yield to fuch inevitable fhame,
As to offend, himself being offended;
So can I give no reason, nor I will not,
More than a lodg'd hate and a certain loathing'
I bear Anthonio, that I follow thus

A lofing fuit against him. Are you answer'd?
Baff. This is no answer thou unfeeling man,
T'excufe the current of thy cruelty.

Shy. I am not bound to please thee with

fwer.

my anBaff. Do all men kill the thing they do not love? Shy. Hates any Man the thing he would not kill? Baff. Ev'ry offence is not a hate at first.

Shy. What, would'ft thou have a serpent fting thee

twice?

Anth. I pray you, think, you queftion with a Jew.
You may as well go ftand 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 a noise,
When they are fretted with the gufts of heav'n.
You may as well do any thing most hard,

As feek to foften that, (than which what's harder!)
His Jewish heart. Therefore, I do befeech 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.
Baff. For thy three thousand ducats here is fix.
Shy. If ev'ry ducat in fix thousand ducats

Were

Were in fix parts, and ev'ry part a ducat,

I would not draw them, I would have my bond. Duke. How fhalt thou hope for mercy, rend'ring

none?

Shy. What judgment fhall I dread, doing no wrong? You have among you many a purchas'd slave, Which, like your affes, and your dogs, and mules, You use in abject and in flavish part,

Because you bought them. Shall I say to you,
Let them be free, marry them to your heirs?
Why fweat they under burdens ? let their beds
Be made as soft as yours, and let their palates
Be feafon'd with fuch viands; you will anfwer,
The flaves 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 ftand for judgment; answer; fhall I have it?
Duke. Upon my pow'r I may dismiss this Court,
Unless Bellario, a learned Doctor,

Whom I have sent for to determine this,
Come here to day.

Sal. My lord, here ftays, without,

A meffenger with letters from the Doctor,
New come from Padua.

Duke. Bring us the letters, call the meffenger.

Baff. Good cheer, Anthonio; what, man, courage

yet:

The Jew fhall have my flesh, blood, bones, and all, Ere thou fhalt lofe for me one drop of blood.

Anth. I am a tainted weather of the flock, Meeteft for death: the weakest kind of fruit Drops earliest to the ground, and fo let me. You cannot better be employ'd, Baffanio, Than to live ftill, and write mine epitaph.

SCENE

SCENE II.

Enter Neriffa, drefs'd like a Lawyer's Clerk.

AME

Duke. C
CA

you

from Padua, from Bellario? Ner. From both, my lord: : Ballario greets your Grace.

Baff. Why doft thou whet thy knife fo earnestly? Shy. To cut the forfeit from that bankrupt there. Gra. Not on thy fole, but on thy foul, harsh

*

Jew,

Thou mak'ft thy knife keen; for no metal can,
No, not the hangman's ax, bear half the keennefs
Of thy fharp envy. Can no prayers pierce thee?
Shy. No, none that thou haft wit enough to make.
Gra. O be thou damn'd, inexorable dog,
And for thy life let juftice be accus'd!
Thou almoft mak'st me waver in my faith,
To hold opinion with Pythagoras,

That fouls of animals infufe themselves
Into the trunks of men. Thy currifh fpirit
Govern'd a wolf, who, hang'd for human flaughter,
Ev'n from the gallows did his fell foul fleet,
And, whilst thou lay'st in thy unhallow'd dam,
Infus'd itself in thee: for thy defires

Are wolfifh, bloody, ftarv'd, and ravenous.

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

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

Not on thy fole, but on thy foul, harsh Jew,] This loft Jingle Mr. Theobald found again; but knew not what to make of it when he had it, as appears by his Paraphrafe, Tho' thou thinkeft that thou art whetting thy knife on the fole of thy Shoe, yet it is upon thy foul, thy immortal Part. Abfurd! the Conceit is, that his Soul was fo hard that it had given an Edge to his Knife.

VOL. II.

M

Ner.

"

Ner. He attendeth here hard by

To know your anfwer, whether you'll admit him. Duke. With all my heart.

you

Some three or four of

Go give him courteous conduct to this place.
Mean time, the Court fhall hear Bellario's letter.

YOUR R Grace fhall understand, that, at the receipt of

your letter, I am very fick but at the inftant that your meffenger came, in loving vifitation was with me a young Doctor of Rome, his Name is Balthafar : I acquainted him with the caufe in controverfy between the Jew and Anthonio the merchant. We turn'd o'er many books together: he is furnished with my opinion, which, bettered with his own learning, (the greatness whereof I cannot enough commend,) comes with him at my importunity, to fill up your Grace's request in my flead. I beseech you, let his lack of years be no impediment, to let him lack a reverend eftimation: For I never knew fo young a body with fo old a head. I leave him to your gracious acceptance, whofe trial shall better publifh his commendation.

Enter Portia, drefs'd like a Doctor of Laws.

Duke. You hear the learn'd Bellario, what he writes, And here, I take it, is the Doctor come :

Give me your hand. Came you from old Bellario? Por. I did, my lord.

Duke. You're welcome: take your place.
Are you acquainted with the difference,

That holds this prefent queftion in the Court?
Por. I am informed throughly of the case.
Which is the merchant here? and which the Jew?
Duke. Anthonio and old Shylock, both stand forth.
Por. Is your name Shylock?

Shy. Shylock is my name.

Por. Of a ftrange nature is the fuit you follow; Yet in fuch rule, that the Venetian law

Cannot