The Dramatic Works of W. Shakespeare

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; 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.

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.

And I have reason for it.
Commends him to you. [Gives BASSANIO a letter.
Ere I ope this letter,

Bass.

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.

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.
Sale. Would you had won the fleece that he
hath lost!

Por. There are some shrewd contents in yon'
same paper,

That steal the color from Bassanio's cheek:
Some dear friend dead; else nothing in the world
Could turn so much the constitution

Of any constant man. What, worse and worse?—
With leave, Bassanio; I am half yourself,
And I must freely have the half of 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;

Bass. With all my heart, so thou canst get a And then I told you true: and yet, dear lady,

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 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.

Is this true, Nerissa?

Por.
Ner. Madam, it is, so you stand pleas'd withal.
Bass. And do you, Gratiano, mean good faith?
Gra. Yes, 'faith, my lord.

Bass. Our feast shall be much honor'd in your
marriage.

Gra. We'll play with them, the first boy for a thousand ducats.

Ner. What, and stake down?

Gra. No; we shall ne'er win at that sport, and
stake down.

But who comes here? Lorenzo, and his infidel?
What, my old Venetian friend, Salerio?

Enter LORENZO, JESSICA, and SALERIO.

Bass. Lorenzo and Salerio, 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.

Por.

So do I, my lord; They are entirely welcome.

Lor. I thank your honor :-For my part, my lord, My purpose was not to have seen you here;

But meeting with Salerio by the way,

Blended.

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, Salerio?
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 'scape 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.

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 spirit

The chief men.
N

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 riend;
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.

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 1 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 be gone. 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, No rest be interposer 'twixt us twain.

[Exeunt.

SCENE III-Venice. A Street.

Enter SHYLOCK, SALANIO, ANTONIO, and Gaoler. Shy. Gaoler, look to him;-Tell not me of

mercy;

This is the fool that lent out money gratis; Gaoler, look to him.

Ant.

Hear me yet, good Shylock. 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 gaoler, that thou art so fond
To come abroad with him at his request.

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'll have my bond.

[Exit SHYLOCK. Salan. It is the most impenetrable cur, That ever kept with men.

Ant.

Let him alone;

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, gaoler, on:-Pray God, Bassanio come
To see me pay his debt, and then I care not!
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.

Por. 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 bestow'd,
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.
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.

Por. They shall, Nerissa; but in such a habit,
That they shall think we are accomplished
With what 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,

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.

SCENE V.-A Garden.

Enter LAUNCELOT and JESSICA.

[Exeunt.

Laun. 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, 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.

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 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.

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

Laun. Truly, the more to blame he; we were Christians enough before; e'en as many as could well live, one by another: This making of Christians will raise the price of hogs; if we grow all to be pork-eaters, we shall not shortly have a rasher on the coals for money.

Enter LORENZO.

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.

Lor. Will you cover then, sir?

Laun. Not so, sir, neither; I know my duty. Lor. 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.

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?

Jes. Past all expressing: It is very meet,
The lord Bassanio live an upright life;
He finds the joys of heaven here on earth;
For, having such a blessing in his lady,
And, if on earth he do not mean it, it

Why, if two gods should play some heavenly

Is reason he should never come to heaven.

match,

And Portia one, there must be something else And on the wager lay two earthly women, 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.

ACT IV.

SCENE I.-Venice. A Court of Justice. Enter the DUKE, the Magnificoes; ANTONIO, BASSANIO, GRATIANO, SALARINO, SALANIO, and

others.

Duke. What, is Antonio here?

Ant. Ready, so please your grace.

Must yield to such inevitable shame,
So can I give no reason, nor I will not,
As to offend, himself being offended;
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,

Duke. I am sorry for thee; thou art come to To excuse the current of thy cruelty.

answer

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:
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;
Enough 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.

Shy. 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 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,
Mistress of passion, sways 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 necessary cat;
Why he, a swollen bag-pipe; but of force

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, wouldst 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 bait 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 fretted 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 further means,
But, with all brief and plain conveniency,
Let me have judgment, and the Jew his will.
Bass. For thy three thousand ducats here are 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, rend'ring
none?

Shy. What judgment shall I dread, doing no
wrong?

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, is mine, and I will have it:
If you deny me, fye 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 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? cou

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 ax, 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

Do you confess the bond?

Ant. Ay, so he says.
Por.
Ant. I do.
Por. Then must the Jew be merciful.
Shy. On what compulsion must I? tell me that.
droppeth, as the gentle rain from heaven,
Por. The quality of mercy is not strain'd;
It blesseth him that gives, and him that takes:
Upon the place beneath: it is twice bless'd;
"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 his 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,

Govern'd a wolf, who, hang'd for human slaughter, Though justice be thy plea, consider this.—

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 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.

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

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 this 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,
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:
do a great right, do a little wrong:
And curb this cruel devil of his will.

Por. It must not be: there is no power in Venice
Twill be recorded for a precedent;
Can alter a decree established:
And many an error, by the same example,

[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 visit-To ation was with me a young doctor of Rome; his name is Balthasar: I acquainted him with the cause in controversy between the Jew and Antonio the merchant: we turned o'er i many books together: he is furnish'd with my opinion; which, better'd with his own learning, (the greatness whereof 1 cannot enough commend,) comes with him, at my importunity, to fill up your grace's request in my stead. I beseech let his lack of years be no impediment to let him lack a reverend estimation; for I never knew so young a body with so old a head. I leave him to your gracious acceptance, whose trial shall better publish his commendation.

you,

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: Came you from old Bellario?
Por. 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?

Por. I am informed throughly of the cause.
Which is the merchant here, and which the Jew?
Duke. Antonio and old Shylock, both stand forth.
Por. Is your name Shylock?
Shy.
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?

• Oppose.

[TO ANTONIO.

1 Reach or control.

Will rush into the state: it cannot be.
wise young judge, how do I 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.
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.

Shy. When it is paid according to the tenor.-
It doth appear, you are a worthy judge;
You know the law, your exposition
Hath been most sound: I charge you by the law,
Whereof you are a well-deserving pillar,
Proceed to judgment: by my soul I swear,
There is no power in the tongue of man
To alter me: I stay here on my bond.
Ant. Most heartily I do beseech the court
To give the judgment.
Por.
Why then, thus it is:
You must prepare your bosom for his knife.
Shy. O noble judge! O excellent young man!
Por. For the intent and purpose of the law

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